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pegkerrThis was the second day of resuming my bike commute, and the first I rode all the way home instead of taking the light rail part way. I put my bike into the garage, crawled into the house, and almost burst into tears.
I suck at this. My god, it's only five frickin' miles; how can I be so exhausted? Could I be starting to feel effects of the tree pollen that made me so dreadfully sick last year? I thought my exhaustion might be because my tires were low; however I filled them up last Thursday, the last time I rode.
On top of everything, I managed to break my bike odometer when I dropped the detachable part on the bathroom floor when I was kitting up into my biking gear to ride home. It's probably under warranty still, but I dunno if I can find the receipt.
"I hate this," I moaned to Rob and the girls and they put their arms around me and made soothing noises. "I feel old and fat and useless and out of shape."
Rob laughed out loud at that. "You are none of those things."
"Well, maybe not," I groused. "But I absolutely feel that way." Then I looked at the girls and felt a searing wave of guilt. What was all my moaning about my weight teaching them about distorted body image? Rob was right. It wasn't true, and I felt absolutely ashamed of myself for even saying such a thing. I would never ever say such a cruel thing about another person; it wasn't right to say it about myself.
Great. Wonderful role model you are, Peg . Now I'm a screw up as a mother on top of everything.
I reflected, as I tottered upstairs, that as far as I know, I don't think my mother ever rode a bike home from work a day in her life.
I'm probably loading the bike too much, but what else can I do when I have to pack my work clothes, repair kit, shoes, purse and lunch? My purse alone weighs probably seven pounds. I know, I know, I know. Shut up. I have to carry it all. If you lived my life for twenty-four hours, you'd understand why.
On top of everything, I have sparring tonight. Me and a bunch of testosterone-fueled twenty-year old guys. Great. Another opportunity to feel old, out of shape, and physically inadequate.
Edited to add: Yeah, probably not all in my head. The pollen count is super high in Minneapolis right now.
I suck at this. My god, it's only five frickin' miles; how can I be so exhausted? Could I be starting to feel effects of the tree pollen that made me so dreadfully sick last year? I thought my exhaustion might be because my tires were low; however I filled them up last Thursday, the last time I rode.
On top of everything, I managed to break my bike odometer when I dropped the detachable part on the bathroom floor when I was kitting up into my biking gear to ride home. It's probably under warranty still, but I dunno if I can find the receipt.
"I hate this," I moaned to Rob and the girls and they put their arms around me and made soothing noises. "I feel old and fat and useless and out of shape."
Rob laughed out loud at that. "You are none of those things."
"Well, maybe not," I groused. "But I absolutely feel that way." Then I looked at the girls and felt a searing wave of guilt. What was all my moaning about my weight teaching them about distorted body image? Rob was right. It wasn't true, and I felt absolutely ashamed of myself for even saying such a thing. I would never ever say such a cruel thing about another person; it wasn't right to say it about myself.
Great. Wonderful role model you are, Peg . Now I'm a screw up as a mother on top of everything.
I reflected, as I tottered upstairs, that as far as I know, I don't think my mother ever rode a bike home from work a day in her life.
I'm probably loading the bike too much, but what else can I do when I have to pack my work clothes, repair kit, shoes, purse and lunch? My purse alone weighs probably seven pounds. I know, I know, I know. Shut up. I have to carry it all. If you lived my life for twenty-four hours, you'd understand why.
On top of everything, I have sparring tonight. Me and a bunch of testosterone-fueled twenty-year old guys. Great. Another opportunity to feel old, out of shape, and physically inadequate.
Edited to add: Yeah, probably not all in my head. The pollen count is super high in Minneapolis right now.
