With my oldest now in kindergarten(where did the time go?!?!?!?), when the weather cooperates I have been taking him to school on my bike “train”. Not only does it mean skipping the pick up/drop off line, but it gives me more time to ride. This last week I have been trying to be more active, so after dropping him off in the morning I take my youngest out for a ride. We usually go down to Hobart and back, nothing substantial but about a 45 min trip(counting the time to drop off my oldest). Pretty boring stuff.
Today though, as I was huffing my way back towards the house I came across my friend Alex! I was surprised he was up so early because he works nights but I think it was his day off. Anyways, he asks me what I’m doing and I explained that I was just coming back from Hobart. So he invites me to tag along with him on his ride. Ignoring the fact that I didn’t pack any water bottles for me, just the one full of toddler backwash for the little guy, I decide to take him up on that offer.
The air was nice, not to hot or cold, a few bugs out but nothing noticeable and it was just a nice cloudy day. We are moving along at a slower pace since I am pulling the train, we pass a few spots I remembered from the Le Tour De Shore ride. I remember how I felt that day, how worried I was about making the miles, but how proud I felt when I finished it. Anyhow, we are chugging along and at about 9 miles from the house I here a pop pop pop and my wheel feels really weird. I stop, my first thought is I have a flat. No worries though as I always have a patch kit with me. Bending down I feel the tire and it is rock solid. That’s when I check the spokes, and sure enough I broke 3 off them! DAMN IT! At this point I’m feeling angry, angry at my bike, angry at the spokes, angry at myself. There is only one reason that I can think of why I broke 3 spokes at once, and that is I am to fat. I instantly feel embarrassed, this is the equivalent of the fat guy breaking the chair as he sits down. I do my best to hide the feelings of shame and Alex offers to go get his car from home to come pick us up. We agree to meet about a mile or so down the road at a park we passed and off he sped away.
Ouch, something bit me, ouch something bit me again, and again and again. Turns out the mosquitoes were out, and were hungry today. My youngest is fine in his trailer with the mesh covering, but I have a long walk in cycling shoes, through the mosquito “jungle”, to get to the park. While walking I tried not to think about the wheel, because every time I did I felt that deep shanger(shame anger) building up. I started thinking about when I got home, all the things I could eat and all the food that would make me feel better. Because food makes stress go away, which means I would feel so much better after I gorged myself on what ever was in reach.
While walking to the park my youngest had fallen asleep, but there is something magical about a park that makes kids wake from the deepest slumber. While he played on the play set I sat down and really thought about this predicament. Food wouldn’t really help anything, sure it would feel great while I was eating, but it would feel ten times worse when I was done. I looked at my watch and figured by the time I would get home it would be lunch time. I decided at that moment I would not eat lunch until I was calmed down. I knew that if I tried to stick to what I had tracked and was still feeling this way, I would binge. I have been great all week, and I wasn’t about to throw it all away over a broken wheel.
When Alex arrives with his car we get everything loaded up(it’s amazing what a prius can hold), and he drops me off at home. It was at this point when my resolve started to waiver. I said goodbye after putting everything in to the garage, and headed into the house. My youngest was hungry as we missed snack time and I had to go into the fridge. After giving him his snack though, I sat there lingering for a minute. Those hot dogs look tasty! I think we have frozen waffles in the freezer! The delectable morsels cried out to me “eat me! No eat me! EAT ME FIRST! EAT ME DIPPED IN BUTTER!”. It was at that moment I had to make a choice. Would I eat, or would I wait until I was calmer?
I closed the fridge door, binging is what caused this problem to begin with. The little devil on my shoulder though wasn’t done with me. I stood there, staring at the closed refridgerator, I could feel my hand reaching for the door. The cold metal box was calling to me, it was wanting me, it was needing me. I knew I had only once chance, I picked up what was left of my courage and I walked out of the kitchen. I sat down on the couch, and didn’t get up until I was calm and relaxed again. I reminded myself that the bike is fixable, no body got hurt, and I was able to make it home without having to walk 9 miles pushing a bike train.
I still feel embarrassed right now, still feel a bit angry, but I feel in control of my food. And that is a win in my book.
Keep on Rolling,
Big Boned Biker