I love newbies, cause they remind me of what it was like before I understood this sport. I've done just that, after all 50 miles isn't that much. I didn't take any water, I didn't stop for food, and I nearly friggin' died.
My worse ride though was my last epic. I went out for a century. I was planned for it, carried supplies, and extra fleece sweater, cause I figured it would be cold. Going out it was fantastic, the roads were dry, the sun out, the snow and weather were picturesque. At the turn around I was faced with riding into the wind, not my favorite sport. This would mean an uphill battle (Ihad lossed elevation) into the wind. I was barely able to maintain a 10 mph speed, if anything it was like 8. I was hydrated, stopping for nurishment even had stuff with me, but some where about 80 miles I pulled to a stop, rested the hands on the bars, and hung my head. "I can't go on, I can't do this." It was starting to grow dark, and I was still miles from where I needed to be. It sucked, and I was so deflated that I was willing to stop at the next gas station and call a friend to come bail me out. I've never been that "Knackered" mental. It was the worse ride I've expereinced since my litle 50 mile ride that I didn't know better to bring food a long. I almost quit that day, and walked away from cycling all together.
I'm still here.