I shot out like a sprinter, zipping around Turn 2, hugging the inside of the track into Turn 3.
The bicycle they loaned me was amazing. Coming out of Turn 4, I began to feel a slight incline as I motored my way into Turn 5. No big deal. Pedal to the medal. Let's knock this out.
Then the unexpected hit me before I could look up. Coming out of Turn 6, it became evident in a heartbeat that this experience was not going to be that simple.
I'm not sure what gear I was in, but it wasn't in low.
"Did you forget that you have a gear shift on the left side of the handlebars as well?" I was asked.
But during this torturous climb, my mind was wandering. I wasn't going to stop, but I wanted to. I spent as much time climbing a quarter mile as I did covering the remaining 1.8 miles, or so it seemed.
I didn't expect to climb the hill at the speed of sound. But I didn't expect each push of the pedal to feel like it was going to be my last.
When it became evident that I wasn't going to be able to figure out how to work the gears, the joy of being on the Laguna Seca track waned and surviving the hill became my main concern.
"There's a reward at the top," I kept telling myself. I could see bikers ahead of me disappearing as if they were falling off the hill. But they were actually going through the Corkscrew. I thought, "Will I live long enough to feel that sensation?"
By the time I hit Turns 7 and 8, my legs were numb. The damage to them will last into the night, but I headed down the hill through Turn 9, flying on two narrow tires. It did cross my mind that if I blow out a tire, I'm going to look like a crash-test dummy rolling around on the pavement.
As these fancily dressed cyclists kept flying by me with no fear, I thought, "Am I racing in the Tour de France or what I imagined was a media-only bicycle ride around Laguna Seca?"
As I came around Turn 11 and towards the pits, I wondered, "Will I be able to even get off this bike and walk?"
I can only remember this feeling one other time and that's when I walked up 221 feet worth of stairs at Bunker Hill Monument in Boston on a 90-degree day.
This was definitely a once-in-a-lifetime experience. Would I do it again? Absolutely. Just not today.