Metric number 2 in the bag. 72 miles of flat roads, some even had new pavement (ahh). I was feeling pretty good Saturday, thought I had finally got rid of the last of this cold. After a long warm up, the 9 riders broke into 2 groups, the fast group rolling around 17.5, the slower group around 13. I took off with the faster group and we were working like a well oiled machine. Until mile 45-when my cold decided it was time to take over-I had been pulling at 18, and when I came off the front, I just fell off the back, I suddenly couldn't hang on at 17, or 16, I've never had that happen on the bike, it was like somebody flipped a switch. Food and water intake had been fine, and it didn't feel like a bonk, I just couldn't catch my breath. After a couple of unreasonably long breaks, we finished the ride, and I went home to contemplate. I was exhausted, coughing, my abs hurting from trying to breath. Spent Sunday watching movies on the sofa. I finally gave up yesterday (day 19 of being sick) and went to the Dr. It has been a very polite respiratory infection, refusing to turn into pneumonia or bronchitis, but it's time for it to go.