Sunday, May 17, 2015

Flat Tire or Flat Tired

Sunday morning, May 17, 2015 - I woke up at 5 am and got ready to hit the road on the bike. This is part of the cross training for the upcoming, June 6th,triathlon. Running I can do anywhere. Swimming,I have to make time to the pool. And cycling, another sport I love, comes on weekends or holidays. With sunrise earlier and improving visibility, I left the house around 530 am. I had two water bottles for hydration.

The main route was Merrick Road to Cedar Creek Park to Tobay Beach, and return on the same path. A flat course,with the only challenge is a head wind. This time, the wind pushed me as I headed eastward. I knew what to expect on the return.

The skies were gray, with a looming threat of a passing shower. But  I pedaled anyway. After the cold winter, many of the roads remain damaged and there's a lot of small stone pieces strewn all over the place. If I didn't see this, I heard the crunching of the bike tires and the gravel. That should have been a warning sign.

Everything was proceeding as normal, pedal, pedal, pedal.

One mile into the paved Wantagh Bike Path South is when I felt the front tire losing pressure. That's when I laughed at myself for being careless, and more bluntly, stupid. How could I go cycling without patch, glue and a pump? Do I think that these things don't happen?

Well, one mile in with a flat tire meant one mile out walking with clunky cycling shoes. As I had tons of energy to burn, I began jogging while rolling the bike with the right hand. I had to stop a few times as to not injure the legs doing this stupid trot. Kind people asked me if I was okay. I didn't want to bother or detract them from their own routines. I said I was fine. They meant well. They are better people than me, 'cause, selfishly, I would've kept going by. Maybe I should change for the betterment of the self.

Well, the one thing I did have that was useful was the cellphone. I called a car service to pick me up at the East Bay Diner on Merrick Road, Wantagh, and bring me home. My driver didn't want to be bothered moving the rear seat to put the bike in, until I asked.

The driver was a young person,and surprisingly, not a foreigner. Maybe he was a college student trying to earn extra dough. I didn't ask him anything,yet, I detailed everything that brought me to this point. After charging me $30 plus a $5 tip (I didn't have singles), I went inside.

I could've change into sneakers and burn energy, but I decided to save it for another day.

Instead, I decided to sit down and write this up while I was inspired, which is rare for me these days.


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