They finished the race of 45 honey-baked miles in two hours, which if I do the math correctly translates into 22 MPH average. There was nothing terribly tactical about the podium placers: they simply rode everyone else into the ground.
There was a spirited contest for places 6-10 which looked like it was pretty tactical, but I couldn't hang around that long to watch them finish.
I really wanted to stay and meet Jet. I'm pretty sure I had a positive ID based on the kit, but I might have been yelling strange things at a team-mate who will no doubt wonder why some weirdo offered him a whole box of Whoppers.
So I rushed over to see my daughter who had several hard contractions in a row and then stopped. She was amazed I was drenched in sweat, and that was from just walking around out there. I think one or two finishers required IV fluids.
Just got a message from my second daughter who is also pregnant but not due until December. Yikes.
Anyway, 'chapeau' to all those competitors. The slowest of the lot would leave me in a heap of ashes if I were out there. They're animals.