Stick a fork in me: my crappy afternoon that wasn’t all that crappy. I guess.

Yesterday I was supposed to have dinner at a friend’s house at 7:30. I was stoked about what was sure to be a fancypants, delicious dinner, but I was a little concerned about getting in the hour ride and 1500 yd swim for the day, especially since I didn’t roll out of bed til after 7 AM. I decided to solve the problem by working through lunch, leaving work at 4:30, riding at the park til I was kicked off by the crits, hit the pool, get home, and jet to dinner. It was a good plan except it’s stupid; in order to make the magic happen, I’d have to take my bike in the cab of my truck to avoid theft and tacking on 40 minutes of travel time. In case that’s not obvious, this is a bad idea. I promised myself I’d admit defeat if it took me more than 7 minutes to shove my bike into the passenger seat, but alas! It only took 5 minutes. I pulled out of my apartment complex a few minutes later with my cheek resting on my front fork... classy.

A few minutes after that, the fork jabbed my chin and left a trail of grease no one cared to mention to me for several hours... classy.

Anyway, I achieved moderate success getting my work done, and left the office on time. I got to the park, put my front wheel back on Lucy, and started to change in the middle of the street (also classy, I know). I thought it would be easy since I was wearing a dress, but I overestimated my ability to shimmy out of my clothes; I think I flashed two unsuspecting cars as they passed. Tough nuggets! After finally getting the dress off, I realize that I have no sports bra to put on. “Oh well,” I think. “Cycling isn’t that jiggle-inducing,” and I tossed on my t-shirt and headed over to the loop to get my cycle on.

My information source said that the crits started at 6:30, giving me plenty of time to jet before folks started warming up for the races. My source was wrong. The sign posted on the loop said the first races started at 5:50, giving me exactly an hour to work out. Everything’s cool still, right? Right. Never mind I’m the only tri bike in sight and wearing a t-shirt and $15 sunglasses. It’s about the workout, not impressing some snooty cyclists. So I rode for my 10 minute warm-up, then am motioned to switch directions on the one way path by 4 or 5 guys going the other way (the crits race clockwise, which is opposite what the path signs indicate). Oops! I turned around. I mostly got passed by folks who don’t have to brake at every turn like I do, but it was okay. Occasionally I had to sit behind some slow cyclists who were taking up the whole lane, but eventually got around them. Then suddenly, the slow people picked up the pace and flew by me. Wow! I tried to catch up for the next 20 minutes and failed, but while doing so I’m going 20+ and EXCEEDING THE SPEED LIMIT on the course. This is immaterial and not even that fast for most, but it’s a helluva lot faster than the 15 mph average I was showing 5 weeks ago. I’m an animal! I’m amazing! Wait! I’m blocked in?

It was 5:50 and the riders had lined up across the entire path, and they were 2-3 deep. What? I’d assumed that someone would indicate we needed to clear the course before a freaking peloton zoomed past, but I was wrong. I slowed and made eye contact with a cyclist. “Excuse me, but do you know how to get out...” the freaking turdface ignored me because he’s a cyclist and cyclists are just about the meanest people in the sports world. This wasn’t that surprising, but while I was trying to get his attention, I’d slowed to almost a complete stop while clipped in. Before I could even finish my question, I toppled over while frantically trying to unclip. All 30 riders and their spectators turn to look at me in a heap under my bike. Someone laughed. I was mortified--more than I have been in years--but mostly fine. My bike computer wasn’t computing, my handlebar tape had a fresh gash, and my hand hurt from landing on it, but my pride was completely destroyed. Finally a spectator said I could probably get out around the edge of the riders (“they’re pretty nice guys” she said. Um, YEAH RIGHT), and I did. As I tip-toed through the edge of the crowd, someone said, “Keep up the hard work--you’ll get it” and “Good effort.” What is this, lollipop soccer? I’m a grown woman and was going a respectable pace the entire time. I just happened to forget to unclip, and it’s because I’m still getting used to my pedals (funny note: 30 minutes before this episode I was patting myself on the back for adjusting to the new pedals so quickly. Ha!). I mean, if you can’t ride the 1.2 mile picnic loop without getting pity comments (and laughter), where can you ride?

I immediately called my roommate and actually started crying. Sigh. My episode subsided rather quickly though, and I headed to the Y. There was a guy at the parking lot asking for passes, and I searched my keychain. Where the heck was my Y pass? After about a minute of looking he finally just told me to go on, and of course I found it after that (it’d been removed from my keyring when my car got serviced the other day). But somehow, 20 seconds later, I couldn’t find my keys. They all disappeared save my car key that was still in the ignition. Finally I gave up searching and went to swim.

Nothing happened in the pool except I peed. I love peeing in the pool. But when I got out of my shower after my workout, trouble popped up again: I had no bra to wear. I had no swimsuits to wear (strange b/c usually there’s 4 in my bag, not just one). I was leaving the Young Men’s Christian Association brazenly missing a bra--show #2 for the afternoon. Sigh... I’m a pinnacle of classiness.

I got home and started to tell this very story when I got interrupted at the no sports bra part. Roomie rudely insisted I was being silly for getting embarrassed about falling in front of complete strangers. What a completely wrong thing to say! We left for our friends where nothing bad happened (and where my hostess insisted that the fall was pretty effing embarrassing and it was okay to be upset. Ahem... thank you). And the badness ended.

Today I’m over it, but I still wanted to share. :-)

4 other things: 1) This was the last of the crits for the year. Praises! 2) I now have to swim with my fingers on my left hand rubber banded together. It sucks, but it works. Remind me to get my bike refitted when I get back from Wisconsin. 3) I found my keys under a pile of bike/swim stuff in my backseat-ish area--like I buried them. Sigh. 4) The weather right now is gorgeous! I never thought I’d say that during a week when it still “Feels Like” 90+, but, well, I did.