The Ins and Outs of an Ordinary Life

Thursday, July 14, 2011

Da Bomb

Yesterday, my friend Bob invited me to a BBQ at 2:00, knowing that we both wanted to join the Wednesday Night Fling (the Fling is a series of rides of various lengths—11, 14, 22, or 25 miles) that all begin at the same place at 5:30 or 6:00). Yesterday evening was perfect for a beautiful ride through the back roads of Greenwich CT, and I knew many of my riding peeps would be there, ready to roll.

I got to Bob’s place at 2:30, and he announced that he was just about ready to go buy the food!! WTF?? When he returned from the A&P, he lit the charcoals, and we had to wait for the grill to heat up (as much as I appreciate charcoal, I am a propane girl). I didn't want to be rude, after my friend went to all this trouble to have us over for lunch, and by this time I was pretty hungry..... so I finally ate my hamburger at 4:30. And it was delicious. But it was a mistake.

When I got on my bike at 5:30, I realized that the hamburger bomb in my gut was going to explode if I put any effort into turning the cranks. I watched my peeps disappear down Riversville Road and considered my options. I could try to stay with them on tired legs (did I mention I had already ridden 25 miles that morning) and hope I would feel better after throwing up. I could just do what I could do and avoid vomiting and feel sorry for myself for being so slow. I could cut the ride short, sit around and wait for my friends to get back while letting the hamburger digest. I opted for the last option, no sufferfest or pity party. I rode 10 miles and that was that. From now on, the hamburgers will be eaten AFTER the ride.

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