Case of the Mondays: Livin' on a PRAAAAAYER

Because I'm such a super hardcore athlete (remember when I won the X-Games?) my weekends are frequently filled with trail rides, extreme suburban runs, lifting, and swim practices where I pretend sharks are chasing me.  So it should come to no surprise that this happened ...

... while I was trying on clothes at Kohls.

Today is truly a Monday.  In every sense of the word.  I plan to survive it by incorporating as many dance breaks as possible.  Like this sweet couple here.

Happy Monday er'body.

Oh, the weather outside is frightful

Dear Jesus, if you are going to send a
blizzard, I would prefer mine with
Oreo cookies.  

Well, the good Lord saw fit to dump a bunch of snow on our neck of the woods.

...


*Searching my brain for a Pollyanna-type comment*


It's really pretty from inside my warm and cozy house.





If I had my choice I would live somewhere warm and sunny all the time.  So today's post is a return to my happy place, when I could ride my bike outside on a wooded trail while wearing a tank top. Bliss.  Here is a day in the life of a hardcore trail-riding cyclist who also won the X-Games.

And THAT'S How I Won the X-Games (posted in June)

Facebook Status: It may be all Zen to you to practice your flute in the middle of the woods at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, but to me, on my first trail ride, coming around a bend and hearing faint strains of Bach's Partita in A minor only reminds me a bit of a whacked out suburban version of Deliverance. And I'm already peddling as fast as I can.

Yep. My first trail ride.

I left the house at around 6:15 a.m. after mapping and remapping my route obsessively via mapmyride.com. I had 12 miles scheduled and I've been spoiled by Sarah planning our routes. But she couldn't bike that day so I decided to Navy Seal it and do some trail riding. (Because if Navy Seals rode their bikes to train for a sprint triathlon they would totally go trail. Blindfolded.  While being chased by rabid squirrels.) Also, major roads (the kinds my neighborhood is surrounded by) still freak me out (maybe because Brian, in his deep seeded love for cyclists, mentions taking them out with his car how much he hates sharing the road with them whenever cycling enters the conversation).  So hitting up a place that dubbed me the biggest threat had a certain appeal.

I spent most of the ride pretending I was in the X-Games. I made sure I had my hardcore face on, and skidded on the gravel as much as possible because I have poor balance and limited overall control of my ride.  There were a ton of (imaginary and consequently invisible) fans cheering me on, and I mugged for the (again, imaginary and invisible) cameras and enjoyed a few voice-over commentary moments.  Like,

"Kelly, tell us about that last turn, where it looked as if you were going to attempt a full pirouetting dismount."
"Well, John, it got dicey out there.  I was going so fast and misjudged the angle.  (Insert dramatic pause to catch my breath because I had just finished the event and won.)  I thought I was going to have to bail and didn't want to eat it on those tiny bits of gravel huge rocks, but thanks to my extensive ballet training (i.e. my best friend is a ballerina and uses terms like pirouette in casual conversation) I knew it would be the best way to get outta there.  Thankfully I recovered without any dance moves."

also

"Kelly, on bridge number four you made this fantastic face - tell us what you were thinking."
"Are you referring to when I came out of the saddle, John?  I was thinking, "I'm totally riding out of the saddle.  In the middle of the woods.  And it's gorgeous out. And since I'm standing up I can see the stream raging river below the bridge.  And at the next games I'm going to suggest we ditch the bridges and ride through the rapids.  Because this is the X-Games, not a tea party*."

*not a political statement.  It's simply that I have a gaggle of girlies and have partaken in my fair share of actual tea parties.  And they are nothing like the X-Games.  But now that I'm on a tangent, I remember my children frequently wear their bathing suits and jump off the couch into a blue comforter. They also paddle board, surf, and barefoot ski on the same blue comforter, so, yeah, my house is pretty much like a year round X-Games.

Miles 8-9 took place on a paved trail where I experienced my first X-Games medal ceremony.  And really, it was almost embarrassing to win so many of the gold.  I also saw a group of deer, which was cool but completely unexpected as I was really close to a major highway.  Because I was going so fast (have I mentioned that yet?) I came upon them suddenly, and they were only a few feet away before they took off.

Also?  I've seen a number of sweet neighborhood rabbits on my morning runs.  They generally slowly hop away as I approach.  But I have a different effect on rabbits while on my bike.  They freak the heck out.  I wanted to be all, "Dude, rabbits, I'm cool.  I wouldn't run you over or hunt you.  Even if it was the end of the world.  Or the Hunger Games.  Probably."  But then I thought about it and knew I was lying in my head to those poor rabbits.  But maybe not.  Because although I would totally eat them during the Hunger Games, I would let someone else hunt them.  So, semantics = not a liar. Awesome.

I have another trail ride tomorrow - a scheduled 15 miles.  And in honor of the summer Olympics,  I might take a break from the X-Games, and enter a few cycling events there.  So I'll probably pass Michael Phelps as the most successful athlete in history.  Better call Guinness. (The World Records, not the beer.) (Heathen.)

Stalkers Make Great Friends Because They're Both Loyal and Committed

Weirdest trail ride ever.

To be fair, I've only been on two trail rides, which considerably ups the odds for bypassing the current slot holder with the most bizarre happenings gone down.  The last one, where I won the X-Games, now pulls a distant second after a ride that had it's route diverted by 1500 Statues of Liberty and ended with a confrontation with the police.*

*I am probably being a bit melodramatic.  Although I was technically yelling, it was all in context.  And maybe it's completely inaccurate a bit of a stretch to imply I was yelling at the police when it was more in their general direction.

A 15 mile bike ride seems like a grand accomplishment, but I'm realizing that if it's a leisurely ride it's not that big of a deal. (Until the next morning when you sit down and your tush says, "Dude, careful.  You biked 15 miles yesterday.  And if you've forgotten I will remind you every time you try to sit down.") 


But Kelly, you must be thinking, you are such a hardcore athlete.  Why would you ruin a long bike ride with mediocre effort?  Good question.  I blame it specifically on the fact that I had to dismount no less than seven times to duck under all the caution tape that blocked off the trail. 

This is a good time to ponder that I never thought of actually heeding the caution tape.  I saw it and was like, "That's where I need to go.  I mapped it."  Plus? Caution tape is like a mall cop; visual authority but no firearm to back it.  Also? Navy Seals vs. Caution Tape? (DID I EVEN JUST WRITE THAT?)


"Um, Kelly, why was there so much caution tape on the back woods secluded trails? Weren't you concerned about the hideous murder spree crime scene it was surely containing?" Great question that I never asked myself because I was in such a bad mood  so focused on getting the job done. Because I'm an athlete.  Possible death and dismemberment from the psychopath still hiding in the woods never even crossed my mind.  Instead I just took the blocked trails as a personal offense and grumbled about the inconvenience.  The most I questioned the first set of caution tape was, "Dude, THE HECK?"   (Street smarts - I have them.) 


Around mile three I came upon a golf cart and my new best friends.  They were two city workers, who, at 6:30 a.m. were already a little in the bag.  Maybe.  Or they were just some of those perpetually giddy/slaphappy people that ride around on golf carts yelling to anyone crushing it on the trails.


City Worker: GOOD MORNING!
Kelly: HEY! (I'm really quick first thing in the morning) (Also I yelled it a bit flamboyantly.  I don't know why.) Then, realizing they were setting up giant mile marker flags, I remembered, "Duh - it's the local town's 5K and 10K today.  And I'm riding on the course. The caution tape totally makes sense now."


I decided to detour from the trail to hurry and do the part of my ride mapped around the start of the run so I could be clear of all the running traffic later on.  It was about 2 miles away.  There, far from the scene of the first meeting, I was greeted by my new best friends who, still in their golf cart, guffawed at me.


City Worker: ARE YOU FOLLOWING US?
Kelly: NOPE. (Still quick, not as flamboyant.)

We proceeded to cross paths twice more, each meeting more exuberant but still as witty as before. They yelled things like, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER HERE?" and "AREN'T YOU DONE YET?" (I dropped a "HA-HA" which is like a real life version of lol, and a "DUDE!" which shouldn't surprise anyone.  I'm like the most boring new best friend these guys have ever had.)  But the final meeting went down like this:

My new best friends were in their golf cart stopped at an intersection, talking to a cop where he was busy shutting down the road for the races.  When I came near, they both stood up in the golf cart and cheered. (Did you catch that, X-Games Trail Ride with your imaginary fans and imaginary cheering?)


City Workers: NO WAY! THERE SHE IS! SHE'S STILL GOING!  WE ARE TOTALLY STALKING YOU!
Kelly: THE COPS ARE RIGHT THERE! I'M FILING A REPORT, STALKER!

And then we all laughed, because, well, you kinda had to be there.  But I felt a bit redeemed.


At that point all I had to do was bike home, but I was greeted by a glorious sight.  It was like Bonus Weirdness, a gift that I will never take for granted.  Because just when you've been blessed by golf cart best friends, you will look up and see 1500 people dressed as the Statue of Liberty gathering to begin a foot race.  And you might tear up a bit because you are premenstrual liberty is a beautiful thing.

LIBERTY, y'all.

And THAT'S How I Won the X-Games

I totally stole this image.
That's why it says "masterfile".

Facebook Status: It may be all Zen to you to practice your flute in the middle of the woods at 6:30 on a Saturday morning, but to me, on my first trail ride, coming around a bend and hearing faint strains of Bach's Partita in A minor only reminds me a bit of a whacked out suburban version of Deliverance. And I'm already peddling as fast as I can.

Yep. My first trail ride.

I left the house at around 6:15 a.m. after mapping and remapping my route obsessively via mapmyride.com. I had 12 miles scheduled and I've been spoiled by Sarah planning our routes. But she couldn't bike that day so I decided to Navy Seal it and do some trail riding. (Because if Navy Seals rode their bikes to train for a sprint triathlon they would totally go trail. Blindfolded.  While being chased by rabid squirrels.) Also, major roads (the kinds my neighborhood is surrounded by) still freak me out (maybe because Brian, in his deep seeded love for cyclists, mentions taking them out with his car how much he hates sharing the road with them whenever cycling enters the conversation).  So hitting up a place that dubbed me the biggest threat had a certain appeal.

I spent most of the ride pretending I was in the X-Games. I made sure I had my hardcore face on, and skidded on the gravel as much as possible because I have poor balance and limited overall control of my ride.  There were a ton of (imaginary and consequently invisible) fans cheering me on, and I mugged for the (again, imaginary and invisible) cameras and enjoyed a few voice-over commentary moments.  Like,

"Kelly, tell us about that last turn, where it looked as if you were going to attempt a full pirouetting dismount."
"Well, John, it got dicey out there.  I was going so fast and misjudged the angle.  (Insert dramatic pause to catch my breath because I had just finished the event and won.)  I thought I was going to have to bail and didn't want to eat it on those tiny bits of gravel huge rocks, but thanks to my extensive ballet training (i.e. my best friend is a ballerina and uses terms like pirouette in casual conversation) I knew it would be the best way to get outta there.  Thankfully I recovered without any dance moves."

also

"Kelly, on bridge number four you made this fantastic face - tell us what you were thinking."
"Are you referring to when I came out of the saddle, John?  I was thinking, "I'm totally riding out of the saddle.  In the middle of the woods.  And it's gorgeous out. And since I'm standing up I can see the stream raging river below the bridge.  And at the next games I'm going to suggest we ditch the bridges and ride through the rapids.  Because this is the X-Games, not a tea party*."

*not a political statement.  It's simply that I have a gaggle of girlies and have partaken in my fair share of actual tea parties.  And they are nothing like the X-Games.  But now that I'm on a tangent, I remember my children frequently wear their bathing suits and jump off the couch into a blue comforter. They also paddle board, surf, and barefoot ski on the same blue comforter, so, yeah, my house is pretty much like a year round X-Games.

Miles 8-9 took place on a paved trail where I experienced my first X-Games medal ceremony.  And really, it was almost embarrassing to win so many of the gold.  I also saw a group of deer, which was cool but completely unexpected as I was really close to a major highway.  Because I was going so fast (have I mentioned that yet?) I came upon them suddenly, and they were only a few feet away before they took off.

Also?  I've seen a number of sweet neighborhood rabbits on my morning runs.  They generally slowly hop away as I approach.  But I have a different effect on rabbits while on my bike.  They freak the heck out.  I wanted to be all, "Dude, rabbits, I'm cool.  I wouldn't run you over or hunt you.  Even if it was the end of the world.  Or the Hunger Games.  Probably."  But then I thought about it and knew I was lying in my head to those poor rabbits.  But maybe not.  Because although I would totally eat them during the Hunger Games, I would let someone else hunt them.  So, semantics = not a liar. Awesome.

I have another trail ride tomorrow - a scheduled 15 miles.  And in honor of the summer Olympics,  I might take a break from the X-Games, and enter a few cycling events there.  So I'll probably pass Michael Phelps as the most successful athlete in history.  Better call Guinness. (The World Records, not the beer.) (Heathen.)