THE LULU CHRONICLES
Okay, so I’m riding along on LuLu and it’s a lovely, lovely fall morning. I decide that since it’s so lovely that I’ll go for it—fifteen miles. Once this is decided my brain and legs go on autopilot. My thoughts wander as ideas for the blog start popping up all over the place. Corn is being harvested around me, that should make for a good blog about what we reap we shall sow. I pass a house that, now get this, has a life-size, fully armored knight on a white horse sitting on his front yard. Talk about yard art. That’s good for about two blogs at least. I can get a lot of mileage out of the ‘knight in shining armor’ metaphor don’t you think?
As I’m riding along I begin to notice swirling leaves in the middle of the road and I actually get hit in the face with a couple of leaves. I’m sure I can squeeze a blog out of that—woman sucked up into the vortex of a… yada yada yada. Yep, the first seven and a half miles have been easy-peezy. It’s time to turn around and head home. I make this sweeping U-turn in the middle of the road to get LuLu’s nose pointed in the right direction. That’s when it hits me, literally. I’d been pedaling with the wind all this time. All those lovely thoughts about a lovely ride on an lovely autumn morning suddenly vanished as I found myself in a fight to not get blown off the road.
Do you know the difference between a breeze and a wind? With a breeze your bangs are gently blown off your forehead as you pedal your bike along. With a wind, your cheeks are violently blown behind your earlobes… and stay there with no hope of ever returning to their natural state. My goodness, folks! Why hadn’t I noticed that I hardly had to pedal on the first leg of the journey? While my thoughts danced where they pleased, I had been heading for big trouble. Now I found myself seven and a half miles from home pedaling for my life… well not literally my life, but you know what I mean.
I flipped my gears, tucked my chin to my chest and pedaled like crazy for four miles. Finally, I just couldn’t do it anymore. I got off and walked LuLu for another mile. I tried getting back on after a bit, but it was no use, my legs were spent and *The Cowgirl wasn’t having it. Apparently, I had failed to memo her about this long ride coming up and she was none too pleased. She wasn’t going back into that saddle. No way. No how. I sent up a flare (translation: I called the Hubs to come get me).
Moral of the story: Marry a good man who’s willing to rescue you on a moment’s notice… and who will not laugh at you as you unpin your cheeks from behind your ear lobes. Now that is a true knight in shining armor.
* my butt
* my butt