I can’t bring it like I used to, but I still kind of bring it.
One day I came home years ago and Lisa says, “Hey, I signed you up for the Cross Fit gym down the street”.
Um…. Okay……
*sidenote 1 – WHAT THE HELL WAS SHE THINKING ?
But I spent a few years there and I did like it. I started going at 6am and then the 6am class got so popular they started a 5am class, and I enjoyed that even more. I did it for a while, but I’m enjoying the new phase of my new life. I’m now sleeping late for the 1st time in my life. I’m sleeping until 5:30-6:00 am now and I’ll tell you – I like it. I think a Saturday here or there I’ve even slept until 7:30.
I enjoyed Cross Fit. I had never done weights before. I ran and raced competitively for many years and I can count on 2 hands the number of times I went into the weight room. Rain, snow, heat or cold – we ran. We never had organized workouts in the weightroom.
I enjoyed the weights and the flexibility training cross fit offered, but what I really liked were the cardio days (I think I was the only person in the entire gym that liked cardio day). I enjoyed being on the rower or the bike for long periods. I started using the rower for hours at a time, seeing if I could go a longer distance in an hour than I had the previous week. Then I thought, what the hey, and I converted the miles to meters and thought I’d like to row a marathon. Yup, I did 26.2 miles, which is 42,195 meters. So I arrived at the gym at about 4:30 in the morning and started my row. It took me 3:21:46 but I did it – 26.2 miles on a rower.
*sidenote 2 – I won’t be doing that again. It was zero fun.
My time at cross fit ended recently. They outgrew the space they had here in Milton, DE right down the street from my house and moved their gym to Milford, DE. Not too far away, but far enough that I can’t ride my bike there in the mornings anymore.
So…… speaking of bikes……. Here’s the subject of this post, before was just prelude.
Years ago (before Cross Fit), Lisa got me a very nice riding/racing bike for Christmas. Knowing I can’t go out and run distances anymore, the thought was I could go on long bike rides. And I did. I’d routinely go 25-30 miles on a long bike ride.
I used it that spring and summer quite a bit, then when the temps cooled, I didn’t get out as much. A year or 2 went by (okay – 4 years went by – don’t judge me) and I decided it was time to bike again. Started on my usual routes going to Milford, DE and back (about 25 miles, or more if I felt good and took the long way). Did that maybe every other day for a few weeks.
Then 1 Saturday, I decided to take a left out of my driveway instead of a right. Instead of going to Milford, I decided to go towards Harbeson, DE. There’s a stop light at the intersection of Routes 5 and 9 that had a little strip center with 2 or 3 businesses in it that I could use as a turning around point. Through and past the light at the intersection about ¼ mile down the road is a chicken processing plant.
It was a lovely Saturday morning and I left at about 6:00am. I went pretty hard, figuring I could recover at the turnaround point and take it easy for a few minutes to start the return ride. I was riding on the right hand side (with traffic of course) and on my left, about ½ mile or so before the intersection, which is my turn around point, there is a kind of new housing development that had multiple water sprinklers going for quite a distance along side the road. I always plan ahead and the road I was on had a pretty wide shoulder so I figured the sprinklers wouldn’t bother me.
*sidenote 3 – I was wrong.
As I approached the intersection and the little parking area by the shops on the other side of the road, I crossed the road to turn around in their lot and get ready for the ride back. As I turned around in the parking lot, I heard and then saw a large truck coming to a stop up ahead the light. Trucks often go through that intersection either going to or coming from the chicken processing plant. And being early on a Saturday morning, the sound of the truck was easy to hear.
I turned around and I felt pretty good, so I didn’t need to take a breather and got back on the road to head back into Milton. I was riding on the shoulder and I could hear the big truck that was stopped at the light now coming up being me.
Okay – here’s the scenario. I’m on the right shoulder, fully drenched in sweat. Yes, I’m one of those guys that sweats profusely when working out. I heard the truck coming up behind me, on my left. The shoulder is pretty wide so I’m not concerned about my safety. I’m going at a pretty good clip as the truck is now just about on me.
But see, there’s a small issue up ahead. Remember how I said there was a kind of new housing development. And remember how I said it had water sprinklers going, multiple water sprinklers. And remember how I said it was on THE OTHER side of the road. Well….. now I am on THAT side of the road, and I’m going pretty hard and I’m not about to stop. It was summer, and although it was only about 6:15 or 6:30 am, it was still hot. And I was pretty sweaty. I kind of had no choice but to ride through the sprinklers. And as I recall, it felt pretty good. As I ride on the shoulder, pedaling pretty hard, through the sprinklers, the truck is now picking up speed as it approached the 50 mph speed limit increase.
As it pulls up beside me and past me, I am now full on wet with a combination of sweat and sprinkler water. And the truck, being empty (which I realized as it went past me), was picking up speed. As it drove down the road, the feathers that used to be attached to the chickens it had dropped off, are now going airborne as the truck gained speed. And as the truck sped down the road, leaving a trail of feathers in it’s wake, there I was, pedaling pretty hard going right through the literal sea of feathers.
And yes. The feathers had begun to stick to me. A lot of feathers. I began in earnest spitting out the feathers that had gotten into my mouth and face. And no, stopping wasn’t an option. See, my bike had the foot pedals that your foot kind of slipped into. And I kind of needed something to lean on in order to stop and climb out of them. I am stuck, heading into Milton, covered in chicken feathers.
Now, I am sure it wasn’t as bad as I imagined, but I did envision myself as the San Diego Chicken riding a bike right through down town Milton. When I got home, I was picking off more feathers when my wife saw me, “What happened to you?”. To which I relayed the story about my bike ride.
I wasn’t tarred and feathered, rather, I was sprinklered and feathered.
Dang it.
I never took a left out of the driveway again.
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