"Oh Shit" moments...

It's been seriously hot here these past couple of months - hot enough that it put me off most cycling. Short hops turned into sweaty messes and long rides left you dicing with heatstroke. Fuck that.

My sleep cycle has been awful lately because it's cooler at night - if you want to do something, do it then! It's 4:15am and I'm wide awake. Every bone in my body is jonesing for a ride. Fuck it, I'm never going to sleep like this. I pull on the my cycling attire, stretching it over the pitiful pizza belly caused by a couple of months of inactivity. Helmet, gloves, shoes... off we go!

I decide to just ride a bit. Get back into the swing of things. Maybe a nice hour while the sun comes up. I set off in no particular direction, letting instinct guide me. Despite my increased girth I feel fresh - it's all coming back to me! As I ride, the sun rises over the hills, lighting the sky with gorgeous red hues set behind dark clouds. It feels like a life-defining perfect moment. I feel drawn to the hills.

Up I go, into the hills, an objective now in mind. A place I'd never been to but had planned to for some time. An hour or so later and I'm there. I feel glorious. Both body and mind urge me onwards, further upwards. So I go for it. I hit a bastard-steep incline and keep going, legs burning, panting for breath. What a challenge! The incline doesn't let up, winding up the hill as far as I can see. I think about how awesome it's going to be flying back down it.

I check my GPS. I'm nearly at the top of the hill! I can crest this and then whiz down the other side, which will bring me to another long-sought destination. Awesome! Why not? I top out, refill my bottle from a vending machine outside a house (gotta love Japan) and head off down the hill.

It's steep. It gets steeper. It keeps getting steeper. Any worse and I'll be riding down a cliff! Onwards and onwards, never letting up, early rush hour traffic from somewhere now belting past me. Impatient drivers, trucks... terrifying. It is almost pant-shittingly scary. I finally reach the bottom and make a witty Facebook post about this. I check my GPS again and I'm not quite where I thought I was...

I'm already at least 60km in. Google Maps informs me I have at least 30km left to go to get home. Fuck. I don't feel too bad but I was not intending for this! After a brief break I press on. What else can I do? I crank up Joe Satriani for some motivation.

I hit the town where I'm supposed to make a turn. I miss it. I find it. I realise it is a highway with no bikes allowed. I look for an alternate route. I get lost.

My right thigh cramps. Terrible, terrible pain as I stop to read the map. It takes ten minutes of stretching and massaging to get it to loosen enough to ride on. I'm now getting a little tired, mentally too. I find an alternate route. I ride to the beginning of it and my phone battery dies. I now have no directions, with a good 15km left to go.

I set off up this new road. It is steep. VERY steep. I begin to run low on drink. It's warming up as the daytime sun begins to assume its position. I'm getting bitten by mosquitos. There is no-one around.

Then it hits me. An odd feeling, I push it down for a couple of hard miles but soon it is overwhelming. I can't fight it any more. I jump off my bike, ready. A moment passes. Nothing. Another moment. Still nothing. I say a little prayer, despite not being a religious man. And then... then it comes.

There I stand, holding my bike by the side of the road. A grown-ass man, 23 years old... shitting violently into his tight Lycra bib shorts.

"Pffffffbbbtttbbbtttbbttt."

I walked much of the last 10km home, clenching my cheeks together so desperately, somehow finding my way. It's all a bit of a blur...

Was it the multitude of strange electrolyte drinks? Was it the takeout pizza I ate hours previous? Was it my stupidity in taking on such a route after so long not riding? Was it the heat? I suspect it was a combination of all of these things.

Truly, an "Oh Shit" moment...