Too pooped to pedal

At some point about 4:33 p.m. on Monday, I suddenly got very tired.

Pooped. Worn out. Exhausted. Weary.

My leg muscles ached. My tongue was hanging out. I was gasping for breath.

And I wasn’t really doing anything.

Well, actually I was doing something. I was watching the cyclists take on the downtown loop in Stage 1 finals of the Tour de Georgia.

They had already pedaled more than 90 miles from Peachtree City. They had battled gusts of wind, the rolling hills of the Piedmont and stayed together like a little swarm of hornets as they orbited city streets without having to obey any traffic laws regarding stop signs, traffic lights and speed limits.

I was getting tired just watching them try to find the torque in their legs to pull the hill at Plum Street, and then up past Five Points to High Street, where the road turns into a surface of century-old bricks.

I’m sure it’s not the steepest hill the cyclists will encounter over the next six days. But it’s a grueling incline with a tricky terrain. (And one of the best places to watch the cyclists because they aren’t zipping by you at high speeds.)

They have to put it in another gear to get up that hill, and it will wear you out just observing it.

I slept well Monday night, and all I did was watch.