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@Wrongcog
As my vision blurred, my lungs strained to suck in vital O2, my thighs shuddered and screamed at me and I shook like a frightened rabbit in a thunderstorm, climbing a hill two thirds into todays trundle. My riding partner patiently slowed to geriatric pace to talk me up the slope while I fought the urge to jump off the bike and assume a fetal position on pavement. This - I thought to myself between waves of nausea - this must be the Bonk.
So what are your experiences of hitting the proverbial wall. When have you taken a prolonged and humbling visit to the pain cave? And what are the sure signs that you too are bonking?
Rising from the saddle to give it a bit of welly (the alternative would be to grind to an embarrassing halt on an easy Essex hill) only to discover you have the legs of a newborn giraffe?
Lungs expanding of their own accord - spasms trying to drag air in despite having been at max capacity for about two minutes of eye bulging gasps?
Bizarre hallucinatory visions of coffee shacks with piles of ginger cake and steaming tea despite actually being miles and miles from anywhere, nothing but the rain and the smell of pig shit in your nostrils, your front wheel flirting with the grass verge as your concentration ebbs and flows?
Share the pain. Cause and effect.