Picking up on my previous entry I woke up Day 3 of the AIDS/LifeCycle sick to my stomach. I threw up my breakfast in behind a bush, but even still I tried to get on my bike that day.

I only made it a few yards from bike parking when I started stretching with friends and got dizzy. I wanted to ride every single mile, but knew I wasn't going to make it 80 miles if I couldn't even get past stretching so I put my bike back on the rack and headed to the medical tent.

The first question they asked was if I'd eaten at the water stop the day before. They'd had an outbreak of food poisoning and I seemed to be the latest victim of the bacteria. I got worse before I got better that morning, at one point covered from head to toes with heat packs to keep me from shivering and by the evening the heat packs were replaced with ice packs. I took three bags of fluid that day via an IV, but the next morning my vitals were back to normal and they cleared me to ride.

It didn't work out so well, the heat and dehydration started getting to me.

At the halfway point my inner bitch was coming out and I started getting slower and slower as it was getting warmer. Around mile 45 I started feeling light-headed and I realized I wasn't going to make it through the day, and just hoped to make it to lunch so I wouldn't have to stop on the side of the rode.

I found friends at the lunch stop, but was knew I was suffering dehydration and heat exhaustion and didn't get out much more than "can't eat... medical..." though I think that might have come out as just a grunt and a nod at the medical tent.

That's when I got a second IV and the nurse told me I would be on a medical hold (not allowed to ride) Day 5 and probably Day 6 as well, though while I was upset for only getting 50 miles that day, he seemed impressed I'd made it that far and was nuts to think I was going to ride 100 miles sick.

I rode around with a roadie friend on Day 5 and when I woke up Day 6 I put on my cycling kit (I was corrected on this last year: it's a kit, not an outfit) hoping I'd get cleared to ride, but even having a light breakfast it wasn't sitting well and I wasn't cleared to ride, though I was given the permission slip to ride into LA on day 7 that morning.

Walking through camp that morning, with cargo shorts over cycling shorts, more than a couple people said I looked a little sad kited out and not able to ride. I don't think they knew just how down I really was.

There was a catch to riding the last day though. Walking across the grass at Camp 6, I stepped on a rock hidden in the grass and set off the tendentious in my left foot, I got taped up by sports medicine and barely felt the pain riding that day, though as soon as I got off my bike I was limping around.

I'd probably be a lot more upset over all this, had I not already ridden every mile the year before. On the plus side, I did get to see an entirely different side of the ride with the roadies who spend the week taking care of us, largely behind the scenes and I like going behind the scenes.