OK, I will start this entry by saying or rather blaming my mother for the events to follow. Yes, that’s right mom, it’s your fault. (I can only get away with writing this because my mom doesn’t read my blog!) Had my mom allowed me to take her out for breakfast on Mother’s Day as I had offered none of this would have happened!
So, after my mom explained she had already eaten and was not interested in going out for breakfast, I called up my friend and former housemate Dave. I had explained (or at least I thought I had explained) that I needed a 3 hr ride – let me emphasize T-H-R-E-E, as in one, two, …three – just like the theme to Giligan’s Island “three hour tour”. And yet, somehow the two of us agreed to head for Pack Monadnock. Let’s just say…we left the parking lot at 12:15 and returned at 6:30. (Sorry Jen – did I say I did a 5 hr ride…it was more like 6.)
It had been awhile since either Dave or I had done this ride and somehow we both obviously had forgotten just how long it is. That combined with the fact that Dave admitted to me (after the fact), that we may have taken a wrong turn at some point (gee, ya think?) But at least he had the good sense not to tell me at the time!
Everything was fine for the first 3.5 hrs…and then the reality began to set in…we are in the middle of nowhere New Hampshire! I wasn’t so much afraid of not getting home as I was concerned about (a) how would I explain this to Jen – (I began to wonder can a coach fire a client?) and (b) how long would it take to recover from this little escapade? (my first NRC race is next weekend – how badly am I sabotaging myself?)
By the time we got back to Townsend (finally a town I was vaguely familiar with) I asked Dave how close we were – maybe 45 minutes? Whether he was being optimistic or just wasn’t sure, he said yes – 45 minutes maybe less. Ha ha ha! Not! (Clearly he was delusional, as we both must have been at this point!) By the time we hit the rotary in Ayer and then rte 111 headed to Harvard I think we were both on the verge of silent exasperation! But at this point, it was a matter of pride – we were so close. On the other hand, with every pedal stroke all I could think was “I’m going to pay for this…!!!”
Somehow we did in fact make it back without calling for a ride (ok, that was Dave's male pride - me, I would have called! Unfortunately I didn't have my phone.) Next time I need to do a long ride, I think I will do it on the trainer in the safety of my living room!
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