Singing Songs and suffering emmensely

Day three had me fooled for a while, but it became apparent halfway up this volcano that I was feeling beat up and becoming sick. Energy levels on a new low for the trip. I had enjoyed two days of really strong racing but today I was to pay the piper.
I was able to get through the initial jeep roads to the long paved section but that's where I hit a wall and started to pedal backwards. People I'd never seen started to pass me, my head pounded, I made involuntary groaning noises. I was trying to eat and drink my way back but food didn't help. So I just sat aboard thinking the downhill would save my day. A Costa Rican with plastic flat pedals and Nike sneakers spun by with ease, I knew I was beyond a spot of bother. "Screwed!" I screamed. Pineapple Bob came by me with a giant smile and words of encouragement. I smiled back and wanted that downhill now!Be careful what you wish for right? For the downhill I had conceived in my delirious thoughts was nothing like what layed on the back side of Irazu volcano. Dirt and gravel roads pointed up and down, then back up. I walked a bunch. But now it was cold and raining. My involuntary groaning noises now evolved into shivering motorcycle-like noises to aid in keeping some warmth but didn't help. I was foolish not to bring along a full rain coat, relaying on a simple vest and long sleeve wool shirt.
Doug Jenne rolled into view through the thick white fog and rain. He didn't recognize me stumbling along the rocky, riverbed like road. I was now walking the down hill portions too. Doug stopped for a moment, he sounded quite concerned realizing that my day had unraveled but there was nothing to do but keep on keep'in on I told my self.
I rode when I could, and walked when I couldn't. Singing songs and suffering immensely. "Up on cripple creek" was quite appropriate.When the downhill finally reared it's gnarly self I had crumbled like a skyscraper being demolished with dynamite. Even Roger had passed me not recognizing his travel mate somewhere on the side of the trail. My rockshox Reba pop lock had malfunctioned and was stuck in the locked position and my front brake pads were roasted down to thin steel slivers of the backing material producing high pitched screeching noises and very little brake action.At the end awaited a cold shower in a cement shed and some hot food. I was now aware that I was ill. Some sort of head cold thing. As luck would have it a Doctor from New England named Andrew Caputo saw that I was badly ailing with a flu and he volunteered some medication that I quickly accepted. A hand full of pills allowed me to start day 4 and feel a shit ton better. Thanks Andy.