We decided to take advantage of the hotel for an extra day for our bodies to recover. My ankle needed to heal and we needed the rest before embarking on the sixty mile day coming up. The dogs were so tired that I could hardly shake Mary awake and really thought that she was dead for a second; they had done a lot of trotting along side of us on the uphills.
Brenton slept hard too, but I did not. I wasn’t used to such a big bed and had the strange feeling that I needed to try and fill it; that I needed to use up every corner so that the extra wouldn’t go to waste.
I felt guilty taking a day off and sitting around the hotel room. It was a hot day and sat out in the sun in my swimsuit and blogged a little while Brenton took a nap. We both had to keep convincing ourselves that it was okay to take a break, and, in fact, important to do so.
It was exceedingly strange to be able to flop onto a bed that I didn’t have to unpack and set up before using. It helped to slow down the mad escape of our days were fleeing from us. Every day seems to be over in a blink of an eye; we ride, we eat, we sleep. Sometimes I forget that a whole day happened, and when someone asks where we stayed the night before, I tell them about the town from two nights ago.
I wrote in my journal that I was scared for the days to come as I watched Brenton plan our route on Map My Run. We are realizing that we won’t be able to make it as far down the coast as we originally had hoped. Although this disappoints me a little, I understand that it is our first big tour and that we are bound to have these kind of blunders. This is why we left our plans open-ended, because we knew that we didn’t know what we are doing!
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