"Do or do not do. There is no 'try'."

Buje doesn't think I can do it. Part of me isn't entirely convinced I can either (245 km with four Category 1 climbs??) but the more I think of it, the more I'm convinced that I need to at least try. I have until February 16th to make up my mind, anyway. And Buje being convinced that I can't do it makes me even more determined to do it.

It's cold outside as we head out from Pedrezuela. We did ten kilometres of the old maintenance road of the north canal that brings water into Madrid, and while it was nice, it was something that I would have preferred to do on a stronger bike, like the Orbea. And then the uphill into Pedrezuela - a full kilometre of 15%, which wasn't as bad as I made it out to be, with the inevitable swearing and groaning. My heart rate didn't spike above 151 but I got to the top only feeling slightly like hell. I was bitchin' more than I was actually hurtin'.

Buje doesn't think I can do it. "You do realize that the Mariblanca is a full four kilometres of hellish grade," he says, pointing out that his Orbea Aqua comes armed with a 54x30 set of chainrings and even then he had to do almost all of the climb standing up. Buje has seen me try to get up Abantos on the Orbea, and realizes that I'm not the greatest climber ever. I'm not even a good climber. Yet.

Andrés and Susana and Yago aren't sure I can do it, either, but at least they're willing to give me the benefit of the doubt. I have six months to train and prepare for this, and if I can knock Quebrantahuesos off, the Pedro Delgado's gonna be a piece of cake, especially because I can spend most of July training for it in the mountains. (Who's up for a weekend in Segovia?)

I refuse to think about whether that's a big "if" or not. It is what it is: 245 kilometres of riding through France and the Pyrenees. There's only one way to know, and that's to do it.