Well, one thing last night proved to me — as if I didn’t already know it — I am NO CHAMPION.
Oh, don’t get me wrong. I am a champion of equality, of literacy, of non-violence, of silence and listening, of sharing the wealth, of taking care of one’s fellow humans and animals and planet, and, definitely, of a nice, pricey Priorat and the occasional shot of Silver Patron, and, even, sometimes, champion of the witty, sharp-tongued barb a’la Dorothy Parker and Fran Lebowitz. That kind of champion-ship and -ism, I got.
But that Wheaties box kind? Not so much. But thanks to the exhaustion and humiliation of yesterday, I had a really healthy breakfast — LOOK!
I had no choice. I wanted a bagel with cream cheese and lox but … alas … you see, as mentioned in yesterday’s entry, June 2nd was the birthday of two dear, dear friends, one of whom is — apparently — angling to become a FORMER dear, dear friend.
Now, for my birthday, I invited a group of dear ones to trek to NYC and hang at upscale bars and see a few Broadway shows. Now, THAT is how you do a birthday. But yesterday, Deardear — the one who talked (goaded, bullied) me into doing this September Bike Ride (have you pledged me yet?) thought it would be “fun” to take a training ride.
Uhm. She lives in a place called Lake Linganore which might more accurately be named Mini-Alps. She and her equally S&M inclined husband — took me on a bike ride that very nearly killed me. Ride — actually — I had to REPEATEDLY get off my bike and walk it up the arduously near-perpendicular inclines they insisted on calling “a little hill” one after another. I gasped for air. I cramped. I begged for mercy, but Boris and Natasha JUST KEPT TELLING ME TO CHANGE GEARS.
Hmph … I think MY BIRTHDAY outing was a bit more fun. I mean, these are my FRIENDS. I am determined — nonetheless — to continue in my quest for 150 miles in two days … I will either feel very accomplished, or I will have a massive coronary first. Either way — WIN!