Let The Bullying Begin
I finished getting dressed, grabbed a water bottle, and headed out the door. Next, I checked the tire pressure, put on my riding gloves and helmet, and walked the bike out of the garage. For a moment, I thought he might have decided to stay in the house. Unfortunately, I no sooner straddled the bike and checked my Garmin when the nagging began once more.
“I told you it was windy. You are not a spring chicken anymore, you know? How far did you say we are going?” I had barely started down the lane when my left knee started to burn. A glance at my Garmin – I was 118 feet into my journey. “I told you this was a bad idea,” he said.
I turned left out of the lane and headed west. Just as I cleared the tree line, I felt the full force of the wind out of the south. Wow, he was right – that wind is strong, I thought to myself, hoping he wouldn’t ‘go off’ again. A few minutes later, I reached the corner and turned right, putting the wind at my back. “Hey, this isn’t so bad,” he said.
The next mile and a half or so went by quickly, too quickly. It was now time to turn left and head west once again. I downshifted a couple of gears as another tree line temporarily delayed the inevitable. And, just as expected, “Hey, did you see that flag on that pole? I told you this was a bad idea. Did you hear that wind slapping that flag? Can we go home now?”
The Bullying Continues
For the next mile and a half, I began psyching myself up for the next left-hand turn. I would be pedaling straight into the wind. Nothing to diminish its force, nothing to silence his pestering. Finally, the corner had arrived. I turned left once more and again downshifted a couple more gears.
One saving grace was that the wind was so strong that it all but drowned out his whining. In fact, for a while, he must have been blown completely off his perch. Finally, peace at last. Just relax and take it one pedal at a time, I reminded myself.
Suddenly, I felt him pulling himself up the back of my shirt. My long-sleeved shirt, in case you were wondering. “I bet we could pretend that we have a flat tire,” he said. “If we start walking, I bet someone will offer us a ride home,” he continued. “I told you this was a bad idea.”
Finally, it was time to turn left once more. A couple of shifts of the gears and the hard part was behind us – I mean behind me. It would be smooth sailing from here on. Or so I thought.
“Hey, this road sure is bumpy. Isn’t there a dog up here? Hey, I think there are two dogs up here. Do you have a death wish or what? Why are those horses in that field following us? Hey, how can you tell if an electric fence is turned on?”
Whine No More
“Oh gosh, just shoot me,” I muttered under my breath. At last, a jog to the left and then back to the right. The journey was almost over. “Hey, I can see our house. I told you this was a good idea,” he said. For once, he was right; it was a good idea. Actually, it was a great idea. And, I might add, it was my idea.
And now it’s time for a shower, and who knows, maybe a second breakfast bar. After all, according to my Garmin, I just burned 446 calories. Heck, I might even have a candy bar this afternoon. Today I am going to have a great day, no matter what. After all, today the score is going to be me, one, and piggyback riding bully, zero. Some days the bully wins, and some days, like today, I win. Whew, I wonder what tomorrow will bring?
