Days 78, 79, and 80: Hello, Week 12

My discipline lagged severely on Days 78 and 79. Read that as: no exercise. To be fair, I had a meeting with one of my mentees after work on Day 78 and didn't get home until around 8pm, starving. On Day 79, I just didn't make exercise a priority, preferring instead to read the book I was sucked into.

I made up for it on Day 80, however, when I went for a 90-minute bike ride on the lower half of the Mt. Vernon trail. (Now that I have this new bike, I am motivated to ride more often, to ensure I get a good return on my investment!) The trail wasn't crowded, the weather was perfect, and my legs felt strong. It was a great ride, except for that fact that two guys kept passing me. One was short and compact, wearing a blue jersey, and sporting some sort of head lamp on his helmet. The other was taller, string-bean skinny, in a white jersey. They passed me not once, not twice, not three-times-a-lady, but FOUR times!! Argh!

How could they have passed me so many times if we were all going the same direction, you ask? I'll tell you.

They first passed me about three or four miles into the ride, after which they peeled off the trail to ride through some adjacent residential neighborhoods. Their route must have been longer than mine on the trail, because they overtook me again later, about a mile from the turn-around point (which is the end of the trail at the Mt. Vernon estate itself). I huffed and puffed up the final hill after them, reaching the top as they were circling the Mt. Vernon visitor parking lot before stopping to rest. I also stopped to rest and have some water, then hopped back on my bike while they were still finishing their Cliff Bars.

A couple of miles into the return trip, I could hear someone coming up behind me and suspected it was them. I pedaled harder to stay ahead of them, zipping down a hill and somewhat regretfully applying the breaks as I approached a gentle turn at the bottom. Sure enough, before I'd even completed the turn, they were whizzing past me on the road (I don't know how they got from the trail to the road at that point) and cutting across the street into the residential neighborhood again.

By this time, I knew what they were up to and that I'd have to really work if I didn't want them to pass me again. About two miles from my original starting point, I was getting ready to pass a guy in front of me in a yellow jersey when I sensed someone gaining on me from behind. We were at a very curvy segment of the trail with a fair number of pedestrians going both directions, making it tricky to pass. Not wanting to risk an accident by darting out to pass Yellow Jersey, I opted to wait until the trail straightened out a bit or we got through the pedestrian cloud.

A few seconds later, Helmet Lamp seized a brief window of opportunity to cruise around me, then a minute later, he jumped ahead of Yellow Jersey. This time, I was seriously bothered by all the excessive passing. As he passed, I said, "This is the fourth time you guys have passed me! That's very annoying!" He was apparently too far in the zone to hear me because he didn't even acknowledge that I'd spoken. His friend, Skinny White Jersey, must have heard my comment or seen my scowl because a moment later I heard him say, "He's really hard to keep up with." Uh-huh.

The minute Helmet Lamp got in front of me (again!) on the trail, I decided that this was war. I started pumping my legs as hard and fast as I could, keeping my bike in a high gear to maximize each rotation of my feet on the pedals. I was determined to at least keep up with if not overtake Helmet Lamp. Faster and faster I went. My legs were strong, my breathing was regular and not labored, my heart was humming with adrenaline. I was gaining on him, then keeping up, then closing in on Yellow Jersey (who, incidentally, was also going much faster now that Helmet Lamp was in the lead). I tucked into a more aerodynamic position, hunched over the handlebars, bearing down on the pedals. I was like a greyhound in hot pursuit of a mechanical rabbit on the race track, chasing an object just a few paces ahead of me. I was not going to let that dorky Helmet Lamp beat me and my new bike!

And then, I started feeling nauseous.

In spite of not being out-of-breath, in spite of legs not aching in the least, I felt ever so slightly like I might throw up. Oh bother! I slowed down incrementally. Skinny called out from behind that he was "passing on your left," to which I replied bitterly, "Go for it." He overtook me, raced ahead to catch up with Helmet Lamp. I saw Yellow Jersey peel off the trail at the cross-street up ahead, then Helmet Lamp and Skinny disappeared around a bend, leaving me grumbling in their dust. I mentally shook my fist at them, and at the universe.

Nausea abated, I pulled over at the rest area to refill my water bottle, then downshifted for the last mile or so of the ride, muttering epithets about Helmet Lamp and Skinny to myself the whole way. They won today, but next time we meet on the trail, I'll be the one calling out, "Passing!"