What's that? The ride starts in less than one week? And you recommend that I get used to the pedals and shoes before that? Well, poo. Maybe you should figure out a way for me to go back in time so I can actually train like a good rider would. And then I could also also not drink the wine I drank tonight. I'd really like that.
You see, Adam (my ridiculously patient and encouraging riding partner) and I were going to ride tonight. Sort of a last hoorah if you will. But there was a storm warning predicting hail and 30 mph wind and cloud to ground lightning. Now, some people may call me a tad bit dumb. Maybe those same people who think I should have gotten used to my pedals by now. But I'm not dumb enough to ride in weather like that. I have a child to provide for, after all! So we found ourselves, along with my mom and daughter, at a local burrito establishment eating nachos and drinking wine. Do I get training points for drinking wine that had a bicycle on the label? I think yes. And do I get extra points because I now have some serious heart burn which I attribute to said bike-wine? Yes again.
To continue the theme of gear and booze, another piece of bike gear I purchased today is a funny shaped bag/pouch thing that fits under the seat of my fancy blue bike. It's maybe a bit big, but I like to be over prepared. It currently holds two extra tube things for my tires, some funny little patches for bike tubes that make me think of temporary tattoos, and a funny little yellow tool for taking my tire thing off the rim thing to get at the tube thing in case of a flat tire. I'm pretty sure it doubles as an orange peeler. I may have made a comment about now needing a flask to put in my big bike pouch. To which Bike Dude (see post about New Shorts) asked if I had a sister. My response, "Do you know another alcoholic in town?" thinking that I must remind him of some other middle aged crazy woman. I'm really not a big drinker at all. I drink more coffee than anything, followed closely by coffee in fancy forms. Anyway, Bike Dude was thinking that maybe he likes my style of biking and drinking. I said no, but I have a brother if you're interested. (I was completely kidding about this. I mean, I do have a brother, but he's in a relationship with a lady and doesn't plan on changing that). I think that I may have a reputation in this bike shop as an obnoxious dork who's in for one heck of a world of hurt come Monday. But at least I'll have room in my big bike bag for my cell phone so I can call for help should I get stuck in my pedals, have a flat tire and not remember how to use it, run out of booze in my flask (this will not actually happen, of course. At least not on this ride. I'll save the flask for family rides), or have such a sore and angry body that I can't possibly move another inch. Then the bike helpers will come to my rescue and I'll be carted off to the safety of some small town in the middle of nowhere and be able to drink a vanilla soy latte with an extra shot of espresso. Or some gas station coffee. Whatever.
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