Today I biked 13 miles on accident, 12.95 miles to be exact. I know because MapMyRun.com told me so. I use this Web site often, which allows you to plot and save courses in online maps around the world. Sometimes I use the map system to find and measure new running routes in my neighborhood. Today, I wanted validation for the ridiculously sweaty state that I found myself in after my biking extravaganza. Exhausted after 5-mile bike—embarrassing. Drenched after 13-mile all-out sprint on wheels—alright.
What ended as a half-marathon length bike, started as my typical 3.29-mile bike to school (distance, again, courtesy of MapMyRun.com). At about 7:55 this morning, I groggily slid on my bicycle and set out for a leisurely ride. Factoring in a handful of hills, stoplights, my lack of shape and still-sleepy state, the morning ride usually takes about 20 to 25 minutes.
About 20 minutes in, two panicked thoughts suddenly came to mind. I had forgotten my cell phone, and I didn’t take the trash out. Long story short, I needed the cell phone. As for the trash—it’s my week. Right now, I’ve got about a 4-4 chore record. It could use some sprucing
Hence the unexpected biking. Class got out at 10 a.m., and I needed to be back in Weimer by 10:40. That left me a 40-minute window. Needless to say, I biked my heart out. My butt went numb, my legs ached and my hair was matted to my head underneath my shiny blue helmet. I pedaled right through the pain. My chest heaved in great gasps for air. I kept on. I challenged the monster hill on 8th Avenue and for the first time ever, I won. For the first time in my biking history, I didn’t have to get off my bike and walk up that dreaded hill. I was a pedaling maniac and nothing could stop me. Not even my shoe, which flew off at one point, perhaps due to my voracious pedaling, and caused my foot to slip and become impaled by my own pedal. Blood gushed, but I grabbed the shoe and pushed forward. Every minute counted.
Breathless and clocking in at 15 minutes on the first leg, I reached the house, threw my bike aside and ran in the front door, helmet still buckled to my head. I quickly sutured my wounds, grabbed my cell phone, realized that in fact, it wasn’t trash day after all and promptly jumped back on my bike for another hail-Mary run to campus.
Gulping air and clothes clinging to skin, I rolled into my classroom at a triumphant 10:45. Not bad.
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