Pack a Lunch

The following post is a story with an aside about a solved mystery. This story caused another story which led to a memory and subsequently an apology.
So clear your plate for the next few minutes. I am not saying it is going to be worth it. I am just saying that is how long it is going to take.

Remember the excitement of a bike when you were young? Ahhhhh the freedom. The open road. The wind in your hair.

With a bike you could go farther, faster. As a kid on a bike you finally had the freedom to roam where you pleased - as long as you don't cross the street.

It's still just as exciting as an adult.

I got a new bike this week. I have been riding my original bike for the last four years. When I first told my husband I wanted to do triathlons I don't think he thought I would follow through. He wasn't trying to be mean, but I was busy. So we agreed that I would buy a starter bike.


We paid 150 dollars for this bike at Walmart. I was quite excited. I have to say this bike did do the trick. I have ridden it in six triathlons and trained on it for four years - give or take the months I spent pregnant. It got the job done although race officials never bothered matching my bib number to my bike number. I guess they thought no one would steal this bike.

Lately The Coach and I have agreed it is time for a new bike. I want to do an Olympic length triathlon this year and I needed a lighter bike with working brakes and gears,but it never seemed like a good time. (We avoid buying things on credit.) Earlier this week though The Coach called me and said, "Meet me at the bike store and we will buy you a bike." YEE to the HAW!

A person could spend like 5 thousand dollars on a new bike. I didn't. The salesguy said, "At this point anything would be an improvement. I got a nice bike that that fits me with pedals that clip into shoes and an aero bar. I am so pumped. (Although I do feel guilty that I bought something so expensive and it is just for me.)
I went to ride it today and I was FAST!

Which leads me to a mystery solved.
When I am riding I always see this sign

I always wonder WHY the horses aren't wanted on the bridge. Damage to the wood? They are in the way? I guess I am slow. I caught up real quick as I road across the bridge at 18mph right though a big ol pile of horse hockey and then spent the next 20 miles with equine excrement on my leg. BLECH. Mystery solved. (The Coach asked me why I didn't just swerve. Hello? Didn't see it in time, I was going fast.)

Back to the story. I went to test drive my new bike after getting it home. It was so cool. Twice I nearly wiped out. It takes time apparently to get used to aerobars and having your feet stuck to the pedals. It also takes time to get used to brakes that actually work. As I was finishing my ride I saw four teenagers walking the trail. They looked out of place, but cool enough. Then I noticed one of them had a Sharpie and was writing all over a trash can.
I tried to ride on and ignore them. I really, really did. I just couldn't do it. So, I turned around, managed not to eat it with my feet stuck to the pedals and told the kid to stop writing on the trashcan and give me his marker. He looked at me as if to say, "Zip it, Crazy" and stopped writing on the trashcan. I stuck out my hand for the marker.

Me: Give me the marker. You don't need it to walk the trail.
Him: It's MY marker.
Me: Yes, but you don't know how to use it.
Him: Yes, I do.
Me: No, you write on sh__ that does not belong to you. (Sorry Mom.)
Him: I am sorry if I offended you.
Me: What?????
Him: I am sorry.
Me: Fine. Stop writing on stuff.

And I managed to get my feet BACK into the pedals and ride home.

I really don't want to be THAT lady, but the trail is really pretty. I would like it to stay that way. He is probably the kid who couldn't spell "whores." I should have checked the trashcan for spelling mistakes before I let him walk away.

So THAT reminded me of the time my mom and I were driving down a crowded Bissonet in Old Alief (Holla!) when Ty was a baby. I heard a thump on my car and thought I'd been hit. I had been. I had been hit by water balloons thrown from a carfull of teenaged boys.

So I did what any sane 24 year old, second year high school teacher would do. When we all got to red light I got out, walked up to the car and tapped on the window. When the kid rolled the window down I said, "Give me those balloons." AND THEY DID. I walked back to the car with an armful of water balloons and dumped them into the floor board. By this time my mom was saying Hail Marys and trying to summon the police. Just kidding, we aren't even Catholic. She was kinda freaking out though and made me promise not to ever do that again.

So......Sorry Mom. I forgot.
And also Mom, I got a new bike. Look! No hands!! (Put EMS on standby.)


Whew.

Follows
Ian at Daily Dose of Reality
The Girl Creative
Trendy Treehouse

Go check out some cool blogs!!