On Sunday, I ran myself out halfway through as I set myself on an ambitious 27-hours long 400-km bicycle ride from and to Nagpur. Abhishek V. Raut and I started from Zero Mile, Nagpur at 5:30 am, and we began to ride on Nagpur-Amravati road. We were riding much better than we ever did or had planned, and the first 180 km of the ride was a cyclist’s dream. Everything was going on well: the morning was pleasantly cold; the afternoon sun rays, not harsh, and the winds, blowing softly—a cyclist’s dream wish list. The four-lane highway provided enough ups and down to test our cycling skills, but we conquered the steep hill with a supreme nonchalance. We were heading for a finish well-in-time when the disaster struck.
The disaster took the form of an electrolyte imbalance that stranded me in the middle of nowhere. At the 180 km mark, my body ran out of sodium—leaving me nauseous, sweaty, dizzy and exhausted.
“Eat before you are hungry, and drink before you are thirsty,” thus goes a long-distance cycling dictum. Although I had read this adage a dozen times, I seemed to have forgotten the second half of the dictum—not fetching an electoral-filled bottle from the water cage of my cycle enough to keep me hydrated.
Strange as it may seem, I have spent years teaching medical students what fluid and electrolyte imbalances are all about. My team treats these disorders almost daily in our ICU, but when the lack of sodium and glucose began to cast their shadow on my bike, and I became a victim of the electrolyte imbalance, I forgot how to treat myself. Ironically, I did everything that one must avoid—drinking plain water to fight nausea instead of ingesting salt or gulping electral.
We were halfway through. The very idea of cycling 12 hours to chase another 200 km during the cold night looked daunting. Supported by Abhishek—he lent me an emotional warmth and tried his best to keep my morale high during the trying phase—I pedalled painfully for 20 km, dragging my bike on the streets of Western Nagpur, as I reached Zero Milestone- the 200 km checkpoint. The clock had struck five when we arrived there. I told the checkpoint volunteers that I was quitting.
As the sun began to set, it dawned upon me that my long experience of bedside teaching in well-equipped ICUs could not stand me in good stead when I faced acute dehydration. It took me time to realise that my knowledge failed me—refusing to hold water when I needed it most.
After a hat trick of successful long-distance rides—I had chased 200 km twice and 300 km once in the last four months, this time I ran myself out. The unfinished brevet did teach me a lesson, though- if you do not tick all the checkpoints, you end up with a “Did not finish” tag! Next time, I have to be extra careful.
