Yesterday I learned a valuable lesson: if you have had a stomach bug for a week and it is still in the stages of don’t-venture-further-than-10-feet-from-a-restroom, do not go mountain biking.
But it was my only day off of work with Isaac, so I figured what the heck? I thought that I would feel better once I felt the wind in my face and was completely surrounded by nature. I’m not sure what part of me thought that my weak stomach and already aching head would enjoy an intense ride through a root-covered forest, but she needs to be punished. About 3 miles into the ride, Isaac stopped his bike, turned around and said, “I have never seen someone look so sad riding a bike.” In fact, up until that point the only smiling I had done was when I had accidentally bumped into Isaac’s bike while we were stopped and the seat rammed him up the rear. He yelped and winced in pain, and I laughed. I’m the worst.
My unhappiness level reached a new high (or low?) after about 45 minutes into the ride. My bike kept skidding out due to slick leaves, branches were getting stuck in my wheels, my out of shape asthmatic lungs burnt like crazy, I felt like I was going to vomit and/or soil my pants, and the realization that we were still an hour from our car made me want to cry. So I did.
For a solid ten minutes, it was the saddest, most ridiculous, pathetic sight you have ever seen. A girl riding through a beautiful forest next to a breathtaking lake, sobbing her eyes out. One of my least favorite feelings in the world is feeling stuck, whether it is emotionally stuck or physically stuck somewhere. Here I was in the middle of the forest completely stuck with my nauseous, miserable self. The only way out was to continue the ride that was making me writhe in agony.
I came around a corner to find Isaac waiting for me (he never gets too far ahead) who took one look at my face and said “are you crying??!!?” This only made me sob harder, mostly because of embarrassment, and I told him I wanted to be done with this whole biking adventure immediately. It was only another 15 minutes or so of actual mountain biking until we found a place we could hop off the trail to ride to the car.
Three hours later I was showered and happily sprawled out next to the fire in our cozy living room. To my surprise, I was already able to laugh about what had happened on the trail earlier. I thought that it would be a few weeks until I found the whole situation humorous. In fact, remembering the faces of the other mountain bikers I had passed while sobbing my eyes out made me laugh really hard. I’m sure they were wondering what the hell had happened to me. Who cries while mountain biking?!
I asked Isaac “if that had been our first date, would there have been a second one?”
“Definitely not” he said, laughing hard into the steak he was preparing for dinner.
“What if it had been our third date? Would you have gone on a fourth with me?” I questioned.
“No” he said, not even to pausing to think.
I played this game with him for a few minutes and we both came to the conclusion that it was a good thing my teary-eyed bike ride happened after 5 years together and we are set to be married in 3 months. Otherwise, this may have been a deal breaker.