Hampshire 100, the aftermath

Here is the final installment of the thrilling Hampshire 100 trilogy.

Shortly after the race I started to get a knot in my stomach. Not knowing what to do but remembering how great soup has settled my stomach in the past I decided to have a can of chicken and stars. So I plopped my ass in a camp chair, grabbed a can of soup, popped the top and drank half of it straight from the can. Before you vomit on your computer you should try it sometime after a long race/ride, it actually tastes pretty good. I wouldn't recommend it on a daily basis because of the amount of sodium ingested in a span of 30 sec. though.

After a bit of sitting the stomach started to feel better to I got up and started to pack up camp. Bad move as the stomach cramps came roaring back quickly so it was back in the chair for me.

Over the course of the next few hours while I waited for the awards ceremony I would repeat this many times since I needed to get my shit together so I could roll out as soon as the awards were handed out. At some point I decide to try to be more social and made my way over to where Andy and his buds were hanging out need the free feed the promoter was providing (which I was to sick to take advantage of damnit!). Unfortunately, once there about all I could do was put my head down on the picnic table and will the stomach pains to go away. Eventually, after many announced delays, the awards were handed out and I hopped in the element and made tracks home.

Pic stolen from Andy's blog. Don't I look psyched?

Once on the road I hoped to make the three hour drive in one big chunck figuring that since I was siting I would be able to suffer through. Nice theory. Within an hour I was forced to pull over so I parked in the shade in a McD's and took a nap with the radio on to drown out the car and people noise. An hour and a half later I awoke to complete silence. F! It turns out I had my lights on so my battery was as dead as it gets. Could life possibly get any worse? At the moment, for me, it couldn't. Mercifully, the McDonald's manager had booster cables in her car and I was soon on my way and finally feeling much better.

By the time I got home I thought I had figured out what happened to cause the misery. During the race, because I wanted to keep my drafting partner, Adam Bradley, I skipped several of the feed stations where I planned on taking in more water than I was carrying and what was in my drop bags. At the time I didn't feel thirsty so I thought I was ok but since the race took me 5 3/4 hours and I only drank MAYBE 4 bottles worth of fluids I would guess I was mildly dehydrated. Just a hunch.

One more race, one more lesson.