average life

Mile 0.0
I arrived at the Silver Comet Trail around noon.  I had the Monday off and after spending all morning in my apartment with little results, I committed myself to not wasting the second half of the day.  I pulled my bike out of the back of my car and started down the trail.

I revisited the idea of riding my bike across the country.  I would have to plan ahead, of course, and save my money.  I?d read about other people who made the trip and knew that it would take around 30-45 days.

Mile 2.4
There was a lot of other things I needed to save up for in order for the trip to work: a new bike, clothes, and an iPhone.  The new iPhone was pretty much a handheld computer and I was sure that its data and GPS capabilities were perfect for a cross-country bike ride.  Plus, I had to be in shape to do it.  I knew that I had a lot of work ahead of me and I figured I could probably start today.  Last year, I had rode the trail and gone about 28 miles.  I figure that I could probably up it to 50 today.  Yeah, 50.  That would be awesome.

I noticed that my bike?s front tire was crooked.  Not just a little off?but really crooked.  How had I not noticed that before?

Mile 13.0
I stopped at the quarter-way mark and walked around a bit.  My legs felt heavy and stiff, but I got more than a little satisfaction by how large my thigh muscles looked after riding.  I pulled out my tool kit and set to work repositioning my front wheel.  It was then I realized that I didn?t have a socket big enough to remove the nut on the front wheel.  Even if I had a spare tire on me, I didn?t have the tools to change it.  I put the tools away and continued on.

Mile 23.0
I realized that the previous five miles or so had been all downhill, which meant that the return trip would be uphill.

Mile 25.0
I got off my bike at the halfway point and walked around.  My legs felt twice as heavy as they did at 13 miles.  The first creeping doubts entered my mind, but I quickly pushed them out and got back on my bike.

Mile 13.0
I almost don?t make it up the rise to the park bench.  I sit down and feel the weight of my lower half as if it were going to break the seat.  I tell myself that I?d just have to take it easy from there on out.  Unfortunately, it isn?t just my legs that were complaining; I hadn?t worn padded shorts.  Even coasting (when possible) was problematic.

Mile 12.0
I stopped and staggered around my bike for a few minutes.

Mile 11.0
See “Mile 12.0”.

Mile 9.5
My body had almost completely shut down for the previous two miles.  I stop at a side mini-park and lay on the grass.  In my headphones, ?This American Life? interviews two homeless people.  Every time I try to get up and walk, my legs almost completely fail and as I lay on the grass, I consider vagrancy for myself.  And then I vomit.

Mile 9.0
Fortunately, that gave me enough of an endorphin rush to ride one more half-mile to a trailhead that had access to restaurants.  While I still had water in my Camelbak, I hadn?t eaten enough and I knew I needed some food.  I coasted to the McDonalds and ordered a chicken salad.  After I ate, I walked outside to my bike and realized that I couldn?t ride any more.  I didn?t know what to do.  I was 9 miles away from my car, in Powder Springs, and it was 4pm on a weekday.  I called my friend Jey who got off from work about that time and asked if he could pick me up.  He said yes and I sat down and mulled over my own naïveté.

Mile 0.0
Jey dropped me off at my car and I promised to buy him dinner to make up for the call on a Monday afternoon to save me from the suburbs.