Health by Heidi

My lungs heaved.  I willed my legs to give me a little bit more.  My gaze narrowed to the tire in front of me.   Don’t lose contact.  Don’t lose contact.   I repeated the mantra in my head, praying to the fickle gods of cycling that the top of the hill would come soon.  Now would be good.  My vision narrowed again, this time from spots forming in my periphery.   Don’t lose contact.  I tasted bitterness in my throat.  Blood?  Stomach acid?  I didn’t have the mental space to think about it.  I dropped my head, begged my legs to give me a smidge more power, and managed to hang on to the wheel in front of me.  Thank the sweet gods of cycling, we reached the top of the hill.  As we crested, the leader sat up, then the guy in front of me, then me.  I looked over my shoulder.  We had dropped the rest of the group, so we soft-pedaled to let them catch up. As we re-grouped, one of the guys pedaled up to me. ...