Last weekend I did a 93-mile bike ride. 93 fricken miles. I wanted to just do 7 more and get this shit over with. That would count as a century sans the pomp and circumstance of driving to Lake Tahoe and riding over a mountain. Needless to say: 93 miles is far.
For those of you who know the lay of the land, as it were, in San Diego, we rode from La Jolla to San Clemente and back again.
"But Mark, San Clemente is in Orange County."
Yes, yes, I know. That's how fricken far the bike ride was. We crossed county lines. Did I mention it was far?
In another strange Karma twist, I have mentioned a woman a few times in my blog. She is the one that almost pushed me into a car, crosses wheels and tries to get in front of other teammates, and that other riders have grown to hate. I have glossed her as "The Bitch."
Anyway, last week, she dropped down to a lower/slower group after much explaining of how she hadn't been riding and how we don't wait for her in our group anyway (she is really growing tiresome).
As fate would have it, she tried pulling the same crap in the lower group, and she got into an accident last week. When we came upon her group, she was on the ground, whimpering, knee scraped up pretty badly. We, of course, asked what happened:
"Well, we were coming up the hill, and the rest of us were slowing down for a light...and she just kept riding and crossed tired with the guy in front of her. She went down pretty quickly."
The people on my riding team all gave each other a knowing look...and someone else said what I was thinking "I'm surprised this didn't happen earlier when she was riding with us."
I'm still not sure what her deal is as a person, but she is physically OK. She just had some minor scrapes and scratches. Maybe this will calm her down a bit?
I'm excited because tomorrow we are only riding 65 miles. Do you know how great that will be? After weeks of riding 80 to 90 miles, 65 seems like a walk in the park. It's usually at the 65 mile mark that I start getting tired anyway, so I'm excited to finish and be active enough to enjoy my Saturday night. Maybe I'll even stay up past 10:00 PM or something crazy like that.
It hit me today that in a few weeks, I won't have anything to do on Saturday mornings. I remember the same feeling last year after training for the marathon month after month...it comes, and then BAM. It's over. Then I go back to being a normal person with something called "free time" to deal with.
Luckily, I have already decided on what my next endeavor will be. But to figure out what that is, you'll just have to keep reading because I'm not saying today. It's a good one, though. It's good.