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  • Galibier 2011:

    Dumping gears like there's no tomorrow on the lower slopes, slowing to a halt when the U comes back on itself over the bridge, vision blurring, the world expanding and contracting, where's the fucking shade?! Can't even look at HRM - I'm way gone, getting out of the saddle feels even slower than being in it - the only thing that still works is my arms so I lean on them.

    Only one working leg after injuring myself on the Telegraph, and somethings wrong with my rear mech, no 26 - just 23 - I hate that 23, can't stop to look at it so I pump the working leg, it feels like it's got poison running through it. A grey haired French man runs along side me screaming "ALLLLLEEEEEZZZZZ!!!" but stops as soon as he sees I'm dead - I can't even drink, all I can do is stay on the bike.

    Where's that shade - this place is like the moon. Here comes the cramp

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