We're here for a long time, not a good time: Part One

On Friday Michael and I drove up to Whistler separately to drop off a car for the finish line (first world problems!).  Driving up in my mom's Mazda I was fighting off panic attacks.  There was no way I could conquer these hills.  The drive was taking forever.  It would be too much.  I hadn't trained enough.  It was pretty much insurmountable.  I resolved to either tell Michael I was switching down to the Medio, or that he could do it himself and hopefully he wouldn't hook up with some hot female cyclist at the end and make full use of the hotel that we'd booked.
Then the day wore on and, after driving to Whistler and back, having lunch with my mom, and doing the package pickup, I was just too tired to fight the inevitable.
I'd set our alarm for 4:55am and was up before this, having slept for maybe two hours that night.  We got up, dressed, ate, and in the pitch black we rode down to the start of the Gran Fondo.

This is the debut of my new, awesome helmet.

I was freaking out.  A rider dumped his bike on the Lions Gate on the way to the start line and almost caused a chain reaction amongst the riders behind him.  Good omen, much?  It was so dark and I was so hyped up and tired that I was surprised I made it to the start in Stanley Park in one stupid piece.
Because I didn't want to get roped up in a big group of people or go out to fast I seeded myself in the 6 hours plus corral.  I saw some people with flat tops.  I saw some people wearing running shoes like me and I almost ran over and hugged them.  Michael flatly told me "No" when I asked if we could move our bikes further back in the corral as I saw the ceaseless flow of riders fill in beside us. 
The roll out took a long time, and by the time our corral was moved up to the start line I was literally shaking I was so cold which is always a fun way to start a race when you're tired, nervous and not confident.
Again: my goals for this race were to not wipe out; and to finish.

And, the one token pic of my husband, because I am terrible.

The roll out went way better than I thought, but within the first ten kilometres we were already seeing flats and dropped chains.  I climbed Taylor Way and then we were were off.  I was still nervous and conservative until the first aid station at the 20k mark which I would have normally bypassed except I got my period on Thursday so I needed to pull in.
Funny aside: I got a pin in my swag bag that said "Ride like a girl" and I was like "Yep: got that covered".
The first aid station was busy because their weren't any porta-potties at the start (or at least not where we were) and so anyone that had to pee had to either go in the bushes or wait and ride 20k.  Time suck.  Whatever.
Back on the road.  Started to feel a bit more confident.  Lots of downhill in the first 50k of this race, and I SUCK at downhill (be it riding, walking or running).  Michael wore his GPS and stayed with me for the race and it looks like I hit 57k an hour on one of my descents, so I've come a long way with the fear factor.  The more you do it, the less scary it is.