Recreational Reading

Once upon a time in a land far, far away; a room mate said to me, You must have done something really bad to be so karmaticly screwed. You see, there’s something of a running theme in various things that I attempt to do which causes statements like that. You want an example you say? Ha! Simply consider last Saturday…

It all started with a polite email reminder that the tri-club was going to have it’s End of the Season party cruise on lake Minnetonka. I had previously failed to respond, however, this time I was thinking about something else which dovetailed nicely. I responded to the email to, “please include me” as I was going to be there. Then I got to work on the other thing I was thinking about.

You see there was a cruise last year also, however, it was on the same weekend as Iowa’s Homecoming so I didn’t go. This year is different as our group decided to go to the big game at home against Ohio State. There was a conspicuous free weekend there toward the end of September — something which is in short supply, and I had thought numerous times about having a Equinox 50-50 party. Additionally, earlier in the summer there had been multiple discussions about having a ride out to Maynard’s for dinner, etc. Since I was now wondering how long the ride is, it seemed like a great opportunity to mash all of those things together.

So, I sent out a message to all the running friends who had been included on other social activities and to some of the cycling friends. The message was titled, First annual Sometime in September 50-50 diner, party, and bike ride (aka the dry run) and I sent it out on Friday the week before the ride. Some people responded, most were along the lines of not enough notice but my message had included the phrase This ride will happen come hell or high water.

At this point, I should have known that I was totally screwed. I had painted myself into a corner with the hell or high water thing and tempted fate with the the dry run bit. It was doomed before it even began.

The rest of the story can basically tell itself. Everyone knows that it rained on Saturday. As a matter of fact, it started between when I got my bike outside and when I returned with something that I had forgotten. It then proceeded to rain the whole time I was riding — never stopping for even a short time. Of course, everyone else displayed their superior mental capacity by not showing up. I rode anyway, straight out and straight back. By the time I got home I was covered head to toe with crushed limestone.

Just to make sure that I paid full dues, I rode the D.I.S.S. As a result of it’s low gearing, the straight through ride, the distance, and my general lack of training; my left ankle is not happy and today is the first day of training for the next marathon. SUPER! So, while I originally called it the first annual it may have seen it’s final effort as I’m not sure I can survive another karmatic experience of that magnitude. This is also an excellent example of why I rarely attempt to plan anything. You see, the results suck™. At the end of the day, there was no party, nor any dinner, and the bike ride was tedious in a it can stop raining anytime kind of way. The only way it could have been worse is if there was a herd of non-cycling people, pushed past their limits and needing sheparding trailing along at ten mph.

None of what happened on Saturday really matters though. The real kick to the nuts was Sunday and it’s incredible weather. Sunday was so nice it was nearly criminal, and Saturday did not fail to suck even more in comparison.