I Should Have Just Stayed in Bed

Do you ever have days where you feel like you should never have gotten out of bed? That the universe is just having a laugh at your expense? That was my day Saturday 7/10/10.

Things started off innocuously enough. I actually got up when my alarm went off (8 am) and then reset it for 9 am so I wouldn’t wake up an hour early on Sunday. Luckily, as I later found out, the on/off switch has to be purposely pushed all the way to the “on” position. I didn’t pay attention to this at the time, and I realized as I was biking up the Hazel Ave overpass that my alarm had been going off for over 15 minutes after I reset it, so I called my landlord (also my neighbor) to tell her she could shut off the alarm clock if it was going off.

That was warning #1 from the universe. The second came when I unloaded my bike at the Nimbus Fish Hatchery and saw that I had no water bottles on my bike. I left them at the house, full of nice cold ice cubes and sitting on the kitchen counter. It was going to be 97 that day; not a good day to be biking uphill without water. The week before, I had an asthma (or panic) attack on the last hill to Beals Point. Now I had the threat of being dehydrated and out of wind hanging over my pessimistic head.

So, I made it to Beals Point with only taking a drink at the midway drinking fountain. No hyperventilating, no dehydration. For once, I had cash with me and I made a beeline for the soda machine because, as always, the snack bar was closed. I mean, why would you be open on a summer day at a popular local destination? The universe laughed at me for the third time when I found that the soda machine was unplugged. Exploring the options of a waterless return trip or bothering some poor picnicking family, I clip-clopped over to the family and begged a water or soda from them. They were so nice, they refused the $1 I tried to give them for a bottle of water.

The ride back to the hatchery was uneventful except for the escape attempt of the 6 oz water bottle from the down tube bottle cage. After all I’d gone through to obtain it, I turned around to pick up the water and put it in the seat tube bottle cage where its escape attempts were unsuccessful.

Hoping the universe was done with fun at my expense, I dared to ride again on Sunday 7/11/10. I remembered my water bottles. That day’s little giggle came when I had one of those space out moments and didn’t really calculate that I was on my bike and not driving a car and really didn’t have a right to be trying to squeeze through the intersection at 59th St & Folsom Blvd on a yellow light, but I did anyway. And so now there are several more Sacramento drivers that are convinced cyclists are self-entitled traffic law-ignoring hedonists. I’ve done my part.