Stupid Hurts

It has been seven days since my last blog post here. I really hate letting StupidHurts go for that long without updates, but I have not been motivated to write lately. Granted I never was a literary powerhouse, but it is nice to keep my site somewhat up to date. It has been tricky lately partially because of the Mono, and since I haven’t been using my camera much lately, I think that my writing is missing a much needed visual component. It is nice to have pictures to reference when I am typing up the silliness that occurs in my day to day life.

My current goal is to quit being so picky about my shots and take more pictures over the next two weeks. Maybe it will help to inspire my writing just a little bit more.

Last Tuesday I took a bicycle ride with some of my co-workers and a few members of the local bicycle club. While getting prepped I met a guy named Franco, we chatted for a bit and I made note of the fact he was wearing a bright yellow leader jersey from the 1992 Tour De France. We slowly pedaled to the edge of town and then Franco took the lead. I followed him patiently for about ten feet before I took the lead and increased the pace. Then I realized something.

I am and addict. And this is now a race.

Just south of town there are several nice rolling hills. We stretched our legs out as we warmed up and steadily increased our speed.

As we got further out of town the road got a bit more interesting. Soon we had a nice ten foot wide shoulder to ride on. The hills began to rise and fall beneath us. The entire time we were pedaling about 19-20 miles an hour and I was thinking to myself, “I don’t normally climb at 20, can I keep this pace up for 25 more miles?” The miles and scenery were flashing by in a quick blur of green and brown at this point. If I were to ride back through I would not be able to point out a single road mark I passed because I was completely focused on each revolution of my pedals.

Then I found a brief reprieve from my efforts. Near the half way point my tire blows and goes completely flat. Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem but I remembered saying before leaving the house, “I won’t need my spare inner tube.” Luckily someone else had a spare. I was almost ready to go when my new inner tube went flat as well. I told the guys to go ahead without me and I would have my friends bring me a spare inner tube so I could catch them on the way back to town.

My friends brought me an inner tube and hung out with me as I got my bicycle prepare to head back into town. When the group passed back by I fell back into the pace line. And this time when Franco attacked my pride forced me to follow,I chose not to draft him but to ride next to him. I didn’t want him to pull me through the headwind back towards town.

We are carrying a much harder pace now and I feel like I am fighting for every few feet. After ten miles I felt my energy starting to wane.We enter town at over 25 miles an hour and I decide to push myself and sprint away from Franco hoping to catch a red light soon to catch my breath before he catches me.

Eventually Franco caught up and told me had a great time and will ride with me again. Then he turns off to go home. Well who do I race now?

The rest of the pack hadn’t caught up with me yet, so I rode back to the shop at a slow leisurely pace to reflect on the warm and fuzzy feeling I had.

Such is the life of an addict.

The past week has been kicking my tail. Between lying in bed battling [tag]disease[/tag] and roaming the [tag]streets[/tag] trying to figure out new and inventive ways to kill myself I have been keeping pretty busy.
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[tag]May[/tag] is ride your [tag]bicycle[/tag] to work month aparently, So Thursday found me at health conference trying to promote bicycle as a safe and healthy form of [tag]transportation[/tag]. Unfortunately about everyone has come and gone before noon, so about one in the afternoon it turned into a gossip session and meet and greet between the vendors. Luckily I thought to bring the [tag]Tour[/tag] De [tag]France[/tag] highlights movie with me.
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Ironically Friday found me taking to the streets with the [tag]Stillwater[/tag] Critical mass group to engage in some really unsafe riding in the streets downtown. A group of about 20 cyclist invaded traffic during rush hour and rode around on some of the busiest streets in town. Most of the time I was herding the slow riders in the back and running messages to the front of the pack. Not really my scene but I did meet some really nice people.

Saturday Sarah, Liz and I rode our bikes out to [tag]Boomer[/tag] lake. The scenery was awesome and made a great end for a really interesting week.

Oh and I found out I may have Mono!