I hate Hillsboro-Roubaix. Perhaps I should clarify that statement. The race itself is quite good. The twisty, narrow farm roads make for a cool course. However, I always suck eggs at this race. Every year I seem to forget the previous year's disaster and go with some expectations of doing well. Every year I get my arse handed to me. This year was no exception. I haven't been riding a whole lot so I have no one to blame but myself. Still, it gets frustrating.

Sunday, Giuseppe and I headed into Jeffco. Before the ride, we both proclaimed that we were feeling lousy. I went ahead and proved just how bad I felt. Not helping matters was a god awful headwind for an hour and a half regardless of any twists and turns the road took.

We kind of freelanced the route as we went but we still ended up in Haute Arete. Giuseppe asked where I wanted to go from there. "Home", I replied. That didn't appeal to Giuseppe but he did show some mercy and suggested going down Franks instead of up from there he suggested Old Gravois, to Crique d'ours and the Vallee du Crique de Roche. I grudgingly agreed to let him drag me around. Once we made it to Old Gravois he clarified his desire to climb Old Gravois before dropping back down and doing the other two climbs. If I had had the energy he would have gotten a punch in the gut.

I survived with all the energy of a slug, then rode home and proceeded to cut the grass as long as I was still sweaty. Afterward, I sat down and relaxed. I hardly moved the rest of the day except to eat. More and more I began to think my body had caught a bug of some sort. For a few minutes my body was chilled. Then, a while later, I was hot and sweaty. Even today, I was somewhat nauseous at work. Things have improved a little this evening so, hopefully, everything is headed back to normal.