Sunday, August 16, 2009

My weekend with Murphy

Yesterday I went for a bike ride. The bike ride from hell. Okay, not really. I mean it was a BIKE RIDE. Those are pretty much always fun. But still...

The original plan was that my friend DK would ride her bike from her house to very near my house and then we'd ride together to the East Bay Bariatric Support Group meeting north of me. We are on the same team for next month's Bike MS: Waves to Wine event and both wanted to get in a long ride this weekend.

But I looked up the ride and from the intersection near me to San Leandro Hospital was only 16 miles. Sure, I'd have to do it in both directions, but I wanted a LONG ride, at least 40 miles. So I decided to drive down to Campbell and do the whole ride with her.

It started out okay. The ride was decent. Not gorgeous like driving through forests, but not scary either. Until we got to a part of San Tomas Expressway that was all torn up. I was trying to navigate the ruts and decided to jump a small lip onto the smooth road. At the last minute, my brain said "Bad idea, you won't make it" but my body kept going.

And I didn't make it.

So I was lying on the road with my bike on top of me in a very dangerous place. I eventually got my wits about me and got up and went over to the side of the road. I didn't think I had as much damage as my fall two weeks before, but I did rip open that scab and there was blood everywhere that would not stop flowing even after I "Wet One-d" it.

So we pedaled to the nearest gas station. We'd gone about 12 miles at this point so it was a good time to stop. We did the potty thing and I bought supplies and cleaned up. I even got some ice to put on it. Cleaning, bandaging and icing all took some time though. But we still had time to make the meeting.

However, the next part of the route was slightly uphill and our speed fell off. Then, right about where I would have been meeting DK if we'd stayed with the original plan, I heard an explosion and I just knew I had a flat tire.

Sure enough... flat as a pancake. Great. Now I had to see if I could change a flat by myself. I actually did okay taking everything off, but I didn't quite do it right when it came to putting it back on and I couldn't get the tire to snap back on that last little bit. So we flagged down another bicyclist and had him do it.

Then I filled the tire back up with my handy-dandy CO2 dispenser. Only to have it explode again. Damn.

I used to ride with two spares and one patch kit but I had recently ditched the second spare due to desire not to be an excessive weenie who is always over-prepared and carries too much junk with me. DK's tires are a completely different size from mine so I had to "borrow" a patched tube from "Guy Whose Name I've Forgotten". (I couldn't patch the two dead tubes because the holes were too big.)

So I pumped it up again and was trying to get all my various doohickeys back into my wedge when GWNIF noticed that my tire had a slit in it and the tube was bulging out of it. No wonder the first spare had popped!

This meant my ride was over. Luckily I was only a mile from my house so I just walked home. DK went on to the meeting. But all our adventures made her 20 minutes late. She said she got to make a big entrance though.

Plan B was for me to go buy a new tire (and more tubes) and meet her back at the fateful spot for the return trip. But after I got my tire fixed, it became clear I was done for the day. I decided to wash my bike (which desperately needed it) and take a shower (as I also desperately needed it) and see what happened. I was prepared to ride back since I had to go get my car and didn't want to put out Mr. Mac.

But DK was also done. She called right before my shower saying she was getting a ride back with someone from the meeting. She swooped by to pick me up, we went back to Campbell and I drove home. I spent the evening icing my knee and figured I'd had my adventure for the weekend.

Then I got up early to go to Santa Cruz for a club-sponsored Open Water Swim. When we got there, not only was the air smoky from the fires in the area, but the beach was posted as closed due to bacteria. Well, shoot! We'd gone all the way down there and might not get to swim.

But then some gals from the Santa Cruz Triathlon club showed up and scoffed at both the signs and our obedience to them. Those signs are up every week in the summer, they said, and we swim here all the time and nothing happens. So apparently they are CYA signs and not "We really mean it" signs.

So we went in the water. But we swam at the beach and not around the pier where the poopy sea lion live and spew their bacteria. I really want to practice going around the pier for The Big Kahuna, too. It's an intimidating looking swim. Plus, the sea lions freak me out a bit. I'm convinced they are going to come out and head butt me. (Or at least poop on me.) So I was a bit disappointed.

Plus, it was very cold and I was sure I'd die on the swim. Luckily it was colder out of the water than in it. In fact, I got warm right away and had a good swim.

I did feel the salt water on my scraped knee at one point, but mostly I didn't feel it. I was too busy swimming and working on my two-beat kick. I got off to a slow start because it takes a while for my wet suit to get full of water, but I caught up to some people who started before me and swam to the beach with them. So I was pleased with my performance. Then again, some people swam the course twice. I didn't have time for that, but I did have time to play around in the water waiting for everyone to be done. (Like I said, it was warmer splashing around in the water than on shore.)

Afterwards, I realized that I hadn't set my stopwatch so I have no idea how long I swam. We also aren't sure how much distance we covered. It's kind of hard to log a workout like that, but I'll figure something out. The actual swimming felt great though and I'm still in a good mood because of it.

We ditched the run after due to the air quality. This was probably a good thing because I probably would have done it and it probably would have been a bad idea. My knee isn't bruised like it was last time, but it stings. It also turns out that I did bruise my shoulder. It's a pretty small one and only hurts when I touch it and not when I move. But I should have iced it yesterday and now it's probably too late. My other knee has a slight bruise as well even though I did ice that one a bit.

Now I'm back home, trying to catch up on things, taking a nap, putting off rinsing off the wet suit and wondering if I'm going to come down with some disease because I swam in sea lion poop. Of course, I don't really think anything will happen. After all, I used to swim in the Delaware River as a kid and that water is completely disgusting.

Oh, and someone got my scale all wet and now the LCD display is barely readable. Guess I'll be getting that new $300 scale for my birthday after all.
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