lame.

3 09 2009

i just want to be home. what the fuck am i doing out here?

i couldn’t figure out how fast i was going. the road was a deep shade of black, and my little light bravely cast a dim spot approximately 3 feet from my front wheel that did absolutely nothing for my shoddy vision. i felt a shiver coming on, and increased my cadence. then i hit a pothole and my right foot fell out of the cage. i cursed out loud and slowed down to catch the pedal.

i was 10 miles from home. less than a half hour. but i was cold, and it hurt, and all i wanted was a warm shower and maybe some hot chocolate. it was at that moment i realized just how fucking lame bicycle riding can be.

you can call me a wuss, but if i don’t tell the truth, this blog will get boring real quick. so i’m just gonna lay it out there… after 65 miles of riding, a sudden temperature drop along with gusting headwinds can really fuck up your disposition.

i tried to think myself out of the situation, imagining a variety of situations intended to alleviate the suffering. none of that worked, so i just called myself mean names for getting me into the mess, as well as an occasional curse outloud for whatever happened to be near.

i bonked out near the top of the last hill, jogged for 50 feet to warm up, and then rode the last 1/2 mile feeling damn near invincible. i took a shower and drove to nate’s and ate bread and cheese and drank a couple beers. but only a couple, because drinking and driving is for morons.

the lame section became a funny story, a decent lesson, and a new low for me to reference the next time things get shitty out in the middle of nowhere. i suppose strength is merely a collection of painful and exhausting experiences coupled with a decent outlook on life. not so lame, now that i think about it.

new pics of the setup will “drop” soon, as well as a revised schedule for my trip south. the owners at my work said that it was “absolutely unacceptable” for me to vacation while the other manager is on vacation. i have fenders and waterproof bags, so i’m not worried. i’ll just need to dress accordingly, because i ran out of things to call myself during the last ride.

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