The Climb, the Bonk and the Freeze.

Beef Tenderloin at Il Fornaio, followed by the best Thansgiving Gnocchi this side of Italy could mean only one thing. I was due to suffer Friday morning. Staying at my Father in Law's in Los Gatos, CA I had Page Mill road in my sights. I packed 3 gatorades and one water bottle and headed out decked in full winter gear at 5:15am. 

Climbing and more climbing it just never stopped. They tell you that eventually you get to the top, and it's all down hill from there. But the dirty truth is these hills let you drop so they can punish you again going up. Turn after turn every drop was followed by an even longer ascent. Even after I finally reached highway 35, there was no forgiveness. The drops were speedier but the ascents much longer. 

Now, I'm three hours in and I'm bonking. I have no food just drink. Unbelievable. The last two nights I ate enough to last me four days, yet here I am wondering if it's time to call my wife. Honey? Can you pick me up on the highway somewhere near some Christmas Tree farm in the foothills? I focus over and over again as the bright sun shines through the trees, blinding any hope of seeing the road in front of me. All I can think of is Highway 9. Just get there, and then it's truly all downhill from there.

And it was. But what I didn't know was how cold it would be. I went from flirtatious low 60s to icy air, jacket penetrating 30s. My fingers were icing over. Feeling was a sense that was gone. Sanity, had left long ago. Patience, and the longest descent known to mankind, eventually, and ever so slowly was finally over. As I rolled into Saratoga I was done, but fully energized to slam my last 7 miles home, to my family.

Five home cooked pancakes later, banana, and coffee, I was ready for my day. I signed into work knowing full well that I could hit anything thrown my way.