FINDING MY INNER JOCKETTE

29 October 2002

I don't want to do this.

I'm standing in the driveway with my bike, waiting for Cindy and every fiber in my being doesn't want to be there.

I'm cold.

I'm sleepy.

And I remember how much I did NOT enjoy our ride on Saturday--or, in truth, any day last week.

It's been so damn frustrating. I took off about 2 weeks from the new health plan because I was both not feeling well (not "sick" enough to stay home, but "sick" enough not to subject myself to the cold morning winds a couple of days). Then there was the drowning-in-work syndrome that kept me away from the club. I was already getting soft.

I've been forcing myself to get out on the road with Cindy--mainly because I'm too embarrassed to say "I don't want to do this," but I've been struggling to keep up with her.

Prior to my mini "vacation" we had gotten up some speed (for me) there. We'd be zipping along at 12 mph (a snail's pace for Haggie, I know) and I'd be in 6th gear most of the way. We'd cut 5-10 minutes off of the time we'd been keeping and I was feeling pumped. I was really getting into this.

And then I got laryngitis and felt like shit, dragged myself to work, couldn't stay awake at night, and had to struggle to keep up with Cindy.

Friday had been the worst. I was somewhat nauseated--don't know why, but suspect some bad broccoli...or something. Walt said he had a slightly unsettled stomach too, so I probably tried to poison the two of us.

I had to ask Cindy to stop a couple of times so I could take a drink of water and fight the rising wave of nausea. That was a very slow morning.

Saturday I was feeling better and because she had no dental patients to see that morning, we didn't have to rush, so we went for a long ride--16 miles--out to the bridge which marks the halfway point between here and Winters. I didn't want to go the whole way because I thought we were supposed to be at Dr. G's house (but discovered when I got home that I had the days wrong--last week was obviously not one of my "sharper" weeks!).

Normally I love that ride out into the countryside--and the sky was so clear, a thousand stars shining. It was the darkest night of the year--the night before we set the clocks back, so at 6 a.m. it was still pitch black.  We had straight sailing. No ups or downs. No traffic. No noise except our chatter. And I was hating it. Why was I hating it? My legs just didn't want to work. I was having a hard time keeping up with Cindy and struggling to keep going 10 mph, sometimes having to shift down to 4th gear. I've NEVER used 4th gear on the Blue Angel.

I was getting worried about myself.  Isn't unexplained exhaustion an early sign of some horrible condition?  Cindy said that people discount things that happen with their bodies. Sometimes something as simple as a little chest cold can really throw you off balance for longer than you expect, she told me, encouragingly.

I was determined I was going get past this and regain the strength I had before I got sick. And my god--this wasn't double pneumonia, you know. It was laryngitis and feeling slightly under the weather. How could it screw me up for literally weeks???

So there I was in front of the house this morning, snuggled inside my jacket, shivering, gritting my teeth, waiting for Cindy.

As I stood there, I looked my tire. It looked a little soft. I felt it. It felt a little soft.

"Let's stop at the gas station and let me put a little air in my tire," I said to her. "It's feeling a little soft."

"A little soft" was an understatement. My eyes aren't that good, but if I read the gauge correctly, the tires had 40 lbs of pressure--I put in 30 more and we got on the bike path to set off on our rounds.

My god....what a difference! As we hit the marsh area, Cindy said "You certainly have recovered from your 'whatever it was'." I was aware that I was zipping along, but there isn't enough light on the bike path to see the odometer. As we left the marsh area and got back onto city streets, I was hearing a familiar sound--it was the sound that the bike makes when it's in 7th gear.

7th gear? I haven't used 7th gear in...weeks. It's a bit of an effort, so I shifted back down to 6 and sped to catch up with Cindy. When we passed under a street light, I took a quick glance at the odometer. I was doing 14 mph and hardly breathing hard.

We zipped through campus in no time, stopped at the bank for Cindy to make a deposit and me to catch a quick sip of water, and then we hit the back stretch.

We left the house later than usual this morning and by the time we got back here, we had done more on the route--we'd stopped for air in the tire (at two different stations, because the first one didn't have air, as I discovered when I inadvertently sprayed Cindy with water). We'd stopped at the bank for a desposit, and when we pulled back here into the driveway, it was EARLIER than we usually return.

Two Years Ago
No More Adventures
Peggy asked me when I was going to start cooking the cauliflower and broccoli with cheese sauce. Gleep! I told her I'd put it in with the roast. She hasn't stopped giggling about that since.