So....I'm a fool. I'm embarrassed to share this story...but this is reality. If you want to be my friend, you have to accept me.
Last weekend after my Chicago train disappointment, Scott and I decided to fill our weekend with fun things. We went to the Toy & Miniature Museum, saw 2 movies, ate out almost every meal, and even went on a bike ride (dun dun DUUUUN). I warned Scott, the last time I rode my bike was 3 years ago in my parents' front yard. I fell off. Most people are supposedly ingrained to remember how to ride a bike. I am not.
We bought a new helmet (a really cute turquoise one at Target), cleaned my bike, and aired up the tires. We put a bike rack on my car and took the bikes down to Leawood City Park. My Honda was super excited to have this bike rack on it; she felt so rugged. I was doing so well! We rode for about 2 miles and I had a little nervousness goin' on. I was squeezing my handles really hard and trying to stay balanced. It was especially difficult when we were passing somebody, but usually I'd get so anxious I'd just drive off the path and stop until they were gone.
I'm sure at this point in the story, you're already slightly embarrassed for me. Thank you.
On our way back to the car, we hit our first down hill. I was flyin'! (or, atleast I felt like I was). I have to put this really short and simple. I ran into another biker. I ran head on....into another woman on her bike. Am I 4 years old?! I was super embarrased and after we walked away, I started crying (again...the 4 year old in me). Scott was so sweet and was trying to make me feel better when I'm sure he was just thinking "Why didn't you put the break on?" or "Why didn't you just...um...steer the other direction?" I was walking and crying when we came upon a large bridal party taking pictures along the path. I had hoped that, if they did happen to see I was crying, maybe they'd be thinking something like "Oh wow, she probably just tore something," or "It's so brave of her to walk with a broken ankle." I doubt they were all thinking, "That 24 year old woman just ran into another biker because she just decided not to stop."
Ohh, don't tell Todd (my father-in-law) this story. I'm pretty sure I would be disowned from the Dicus family. I just had to get this story off my chest, but I'm still pretty embarrassed. No more biking for me for awhile. I'll stick with Jazzercise.