Riding hard on the roads of Kona, I thought that much suffering had come before us. That the training we were doing was nothing compared to the champions who had left it all on the road in the cycling leg of the Ironman.
Riding in wind like that reminded me of the Tri-Cities, where I learned to ride and race. It envelopes you, like riding in sand (or snow) – you can’t do much more than spin and at times were were going about 12 mph. Riding back towards town, with a tailwind, we’d hit 28 without pedaling. I’m sure tales are told on the group rides and in the bike shop about the suffering out and flying back.