* This picture is a crude reenactment of the following story. Elisa is playing the "chick."
I thought after living with a boy for the past 2 1/2 years my encounters with crazy chicks were over...and then I went for an innocent ride yesterday and was reminded that no matter how far you run, who you decide to live with or where you go...crazy chicks will find you.
Picture this...it's a beautiful Saturday morning and I'm dragging my lazy bones up a rather steep canyon. As I'm taking a mental inventory on my aching knees, a chick flies by me on a red bike. Now, I would like to say that I've finally reached the point where I don't have to be competitive in everything I do and am content at participating at a passive level...but, unfortunately, that is not the case. Instead, at 30, I still find myself a raging "has been" who refuses to lose at anything. Therefore, when this chick passed me my first reaction was to bump up my cadence and put her back behind me. For the next five miles I listened to her pant and moan as she attempted to stay on my back wheel. Now, I know I could have just slowed down and let the Tour de Craziness pass me, but I have to admit I was having a little fun. With about a mile to go, I reached down for some water, and as I took a sip, the chick popped out of her saddle and passed me again. Now it was on. Once I put my water back I settled back into my cadence and prepared to pass the Lance wannabe. However, this time she moved over so I couldn't pass her. I tried again and again she popped out of her saddle and cut me off. Now, I was getting angry. As we approached the last curves until the killer kick at the end, I surged forward and put her finally behind me. As I waited at the top, I thought she would say something like, "Hey, great riding." or "Hey that was fun." Instead, I got the cold shoulder and a look a death. Really? On a Saturday morning you are being this crazy? What are you like on a Monday morning?
Chicks, Man.
* And I know what you are thinking...And the answer is yes. I still would have written this entry had I lost the race. Only she would have been crazier and on the last hill I would have included a minor exaggeration about a billy club and some broken glass.
2 comments:
Online, somewhere, there is the other side of this story...
I like how you have identified her as the crazy one.
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