the thin line between optimism and delusion…

May is national bike month.  Guess what?  I have a bike.  A pretty cool bike in my opinion.  My parents like to bike, and I convinced my dad to get me a bike when I graduated from law school so I could start riding.  I figured that it would be a good way to hang out with my parents while not actually having to talk to them (haha).  Well, I rode my bike that summer until the stress of the bar exam started to get to me and then I reverted back to what was comfortable – running.

Regardless, I have a pretty shiny bike that works, and has cool stuff like an odometer and a bell and a little bag where you can put stuff like your cell phone.  And I have some bike shorts with the padding in the butt and the elastic around the thighs that cuts off my circulation.  Oh, and I have a great helmet, the kind with the sun visor attached and everything. 

Basically, I look like I ride bikes.  When in actuality, I just sort of pretend.  I ride my bike when someone else prompts me to, a few times a year. 

My parents convinced me to ride in this bike ride with them yesterday.  Now, I should have realized when my dad called me last week to ask me questions about the form he was filling out for the bike ride and asked me what size shirt I wanted that this really wasn’t just a for kicks bike ride.  But everyone was adamant that it wasn’t a race, so I thought I would be okay. 

And I was okay.  For the first 18.5 miles.  About 15 miles into the ride I made the executive decision that come hell or high water I had to find someone to come pick me up because I was not going to make it back another 18.5 miles.  I knew when I got off that bike, I would not be getting back on that day. 

My mom said – You can’t quit!  You have to ride back with us! 

I said – Watch me.  I’m a great quitter.  I know my limits. 

Because my mom goes to spinning class a lot.  I run hills.  These are very, very different things.  Besides, I wanted to be able to walk today. 

In addition to the bike ride being long, the wind was blowing 20 miles an hour.  I’m serious.  And I had forgotten how when you ride your bike, especially if the wind is blowing, you don’t realize how much you are sweating.  Things I would remember if I really rode bikes.   

Today I got caught up in something and didn’t have time to eat lunch so instead I ate some peanut butter crackers.  I thought I was going to throw up the rest of the afternoon.  It was like a terrible hangover, except I didn’t drink anything yesterday.  Finally I realizd that I was horribly dehydrated from the ride. 

I mean, imagine what would have happened if I’d ridden all 37 miles!  My parents made it the whole way.  My mom got a flat tire around mile 30 and I had to take her my bike and switch them out so they could finish.  The flat tire just really reinforced for me how happy I was that I didn’t ride back. 

I’m going to sleep so I can wake up and not be hungover from my bike ride anymore.  Sweet dreams!