Fortuitous flat?

Background:
Some members of the group I cycle with are planning to do the Ride Across INdiana (RAIN) the weekend after next. We did this ride two years ago: it was the hottest day I've ever cycled, and though I actually felt pretty good at the conclusion of the 160 miles, I really didn't want to do it again, ever! It wasn't so much the heat - after all, that was just the luck of the draw that comes with a July event; last year was much nicer - but I don't think the ride is as well supported as it should be, with only three official rest stops along the way.

But when we did it two years ago, one member of our group suffered a fluke accident just a few miles in and wasn't able to complete the ride. She was really disappointed, and I was willing to do this ride again if she needed a team to ride with (it really isn't a good ride to do by yourself, and it's a good idea to have vehicular support, too). So this is her year, but there are enough others from the group riding that I'm really not needed. I did tell the group I'd train with them for it, though.

So, yesterday we had a 100-120 mile training ride planned, starting at 7 am. Last Sunday we'd ridden about 90, and the path was pretty debris-strewn as a result of a storm the previous evening. As a result, three of us had gotten flat tires last week during the ride, including me. I'd used what I thought were my last spare tube and last CO₂ cartridge getting back on the road, and completely forgot to replenish my supplies during the week.

As I go downstairs yesterday morning, I'm beginning to feel as if it's a bad idea to ride without being properly provisioned, especially as we'd had storms again on Saturday evening. I thought the decision was taken out of my hands, because when I got to my bike, my front tire was again flat. But the tube wasn't completely out of air; it was more of a slow leak. And it turned out I had an extra tube and three spare cartridges in my supply box.

Now things get odd. I can't call the group to let them know I'm running late, as everyone's phone numbers are in my cell phone. The display has been gradually going out, and it has finally reached the point where I simply can't get it to come up. (Why I haven't had it replaced is its own long story!) But I'm pretty sure they'll call to check on me when I don't show up, as they're expecting me to be there. I pull my phone out and set it on the sofa next to me where I'm working on my tire, so I can grab it quickly if it rings - not noticing that I haven't turned it back on after our marriage encounter meeting last night. By the time I get my tire fixed and pumped back up, I'm leaving the house ten minutes after the group was scheduled to start riding, and it takes me a minimum of six minutes to ride to our starting point. But I know where they're headed, and so I start on my way, pushing my pace pretty well. I know that, by myself, I'm not likely to match the group's pace, though there are a couple riders who are probably slower than I am, so I might catch the rearguard. But they'll probably stop for a few minutes at the first break area, about a dozen miles from my house. I figure maybe I can catch up with them there.

Except they either didn't stop there or were gone already, so rather than stopping I press onward. Now I figure it will be the 25 mile point before I have a shot at joining up with them. But crossing an intersection about three miles further along, I'm surprised to see familiar jerseys and faces stopped on the other side of the bridge ahead. One of my friends is calling out to me to "Be careful! That the bridge is like ice!" which confuses the hell out of me as the temperature is in the 60's. Then I see that a couple of them are bleeding, and one is laying down in the grass beside the path.

It seems that wet algae growth on the wooden bridge had made it extremely slick. One rider went down crossing the bridge, followed by at least two behind him. The guy laying on the ground when I arrived was the most seriously hurt; we found out later that he incurred a broken shoulder blade and collapsed lung. Other than that it was mostly a matter of a few scrapes. If I'd been with the group, I'd have probably been right in the midst of the pile-up.

(BTW, I ended up putting in over 115 miles on the day. And it was a good thing I was equipped for a flat, as I ended up getting another one.)

Some cheese with my whine?

Had a birthday this week. The day itself was pretty nice. Rest of the week has been mildly sucky, going back to the day before.

Sunday morning, early, had a group bike ride. One fairly newbie had never been on this route before, started having heart rate issues and fell behind the group. I hung back to make sure he’d be able to find his way back home. When we met up with the group for coffee (since I knew they’d been waiting already, I ordered an iced mocha, which went down fast and really hit the spot), I’d ensured the new guy knew how to get home, and was really looking forward to pushing it with the rest of the group. Just after we started, I thought I heard something hit the street. I quickly looked down, but didn’t notice anything amiss with the bike. About a block later the guy behind me pipes up: “Hey, did somebody drop a speedometer or something?” Sure enough, I’d dropped my cyclocomputer (just a couple square inches), which I’d pulled back slightly from its bracket when I’d stopped and forgotten to reseat. “Oh, [expletive deleted],” I said, turning around hoping it had survived the fall and bounces, as the group pressed on, either not realizing or not caring that I’d run into a problem. After two loops back to look for it, and with the group long out of sight, I gave up and started on my way. I hoped to catch sight of them to finish the ride together, figuring they might’ve realized something was up and waited on me, but never did spot them.

The further I rode, the angrier I got. By the time I got home I was totally pissed off. To tell you the truth, it affected me all week. The computer was probably broken as soon as it hit the pavement, but since a replacement is going to cost at least $30 (if I don’t upgrade to a heart rate monitor, which I really am not ready to do), it would have been nice to have recovered it if possible, and four extra pair of eyes couldn’t have hurt. Lacking that, I was really looking forward to the group ride, which I’d missed out on the first part of by hanging back for the other guy’s benefit.

This is still not resolved. Nobody has sent me an e-mail asking me what happened. I can’t really send out an e-mail about it without being a whiner. For that matter, nobody dropped a line letting me know when they were riding midweek; I didn’t get one in, either, as I did yard work on Wed and worked late to make up for taking time off for an eye appt on Thurs. It looks like we're riding again on Sunday, though.

The eye appointment was another issue. I finally got contacts again last week, for the first time in 20 years. They’re bifocal, which are supposed to take some adjusting to. My distance vision is great with them, but I can’t focus on anything closer than three feet yet. Well, I only worked one day after getting them last week, spending last Thursday and Friday volunteering at this year's Habitat house, so I haven’t gotten into the habit of putting the things in each morning. So Monday, I just habitually slapped on my glasses and headed off to work. I put the contacts in when I got home, but most of my close-in reading happens during the work day. As a result, after one day at work with them in followed by five days without them, Tuesday sucked. I could barely see my computer screen. Of course, I can’t put on a pair of reading glasses, as that will screw up the adjustment process. Wednesday was a little better, until I apparently scratched my eye with the corner of a fingernail taking them out in the evening. Now on Saturday I'll be back to square one on the adjustment process, as I’m not supposed to put them back in until then.

Sorry. I know I’m abundantly blessed, and this has been nothing but a big gripe session. I mean, my home isn’t under several feet of water like my midwest neighbors to the west. I still have a good job and a wonderful family. Just blowing off some steam.

Deliverance

"I will call on the Lord, and I will be saved." Ps 17

Usually in my morning prayer time I find myself focused on the readings, but some mornings there is something in one of the Psalms that just really catches my attention. This was one of those mornings.

When we pray the Lord's prayer, we offer this petition (among others) for ourselves: "And lead us not into temptation."

Why do we so often find ourselves struggling against the same temptations? Looking at my life, I'm certain that every area of long-term struggle has been one in which I haven't really called on the Lord, or haven't trusted in the way God has wanted to deliver me.

I think this ties into previous posts. The simple (to say) prayer "Thy will be done" holds too little meaning for us. We don't want really want God's will be done. We want what we want, rather than trusting that what God wants for us is far greater.

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. Help me to call on you, especially at those times when I least want what I think you want for me. I know if I do, I will be saved.