So there’s this dude. He sometimes masquerades as my friend.
He does ironmans (supposedly… I’ve known him for well over a year and have yet to see him complete an event. Registered, yes. Shown up and participated, not yet.). He is always “training” (again, supposedly…). And, knowing him has pushed me to keep trying to ride my bike at a faster pace and for longer mileage.
I really, really, really miss having a riding buddy.
So, I am definitely not in any shape to ride 50+ miles at a 19+ mph average speed. But, I can go 25-30 miles at 16 mph average. And certainly, for a “friend” this dude might condescend… right?
After registering for my half-metric ride, I let him know. I also told him about the route the ride would take. I also asked a favor of him: “will you please ride the route with me before the event so I am familiar?”
“Of course,” he said. “Whatever you need,” he said.
The dude had over two and a half weeks to carve two and a half hours out of his schedule to do this. It was around his neighborhood. I was planning on putting my bike in my car and meeting him wherever was convenient. And, in theory, supposedly, he regularly goes on long rides anyway… What’s the big fucking deal if I tagged along for 36 miles of a ride?
He was getting a bike shipped to him. His other road bike was on a trainer and he didn’t want to take it off. Fine. Whatever. Then the bike arrived. He assembled it and immediately took it out for a ride. That was on a Friday. On Saturday morning, I texted him, “want to ride bikes?” “I can’t today.” Fine. Whatever. On Sunday, one week before the charity ride, he went out on some 50 mile solo ride…
I called him on it. So, like what? Am I supposed to text this dude every morning on the off chance that he wants to invite me along? Fuck that. That’s not the way my friends work. My friends are actual friends; they keep their word and follow through on promises. My friends and I show up at one another’s house with bagels and coffee and say “c’mon, let’s go.” (Or we used to, back when I lived in places where I had true friends…)
But as I told you before, this dude only masquerades as a friend.
Like a not-so-evolved, emotionally immature (dare I say it? OK, I’ll say it) man, he got defensive, made excuses, over-reacted, and called me names. I laughed at him for his ridiculous reaction (yes, we are still talking about riding bikes), which apparently made things worse.
Hahahahaha. Sorry. Hahaha. Not sorry. Hahahahahaha.
He decided the best course of action would be to give me the silent treatment for over a week (actually, I’m pretty sure I am still in my little “time out” but I just so happened to run into him today. It was super awkward…).
He knew when the charity ride was. He knew I completed it. Didn’t ask how it went. Didn’t put aside the silent treatment to pretend to care. And then, the cherry on the shit for a friend sundae: via Strava, I saw that he followed *the exact course* with a buddy the day after the charity ride. What. The. Fuck. Yo’?
I will never ever let him know that I know he did this little ride with his friend. That is a secret you have to promise to keep between you and me…
Fired up yesterday, I took my bike out.
Riding my bike is emotional therapy for me as much as physical therapy. I rode as hard as my body would allow. I stayed out as long as I could. I climbed hills. I went on tiny residential side streets that allow me to go fast. I went 21.2 miles. I increased my average speed by full mile per hour (despite climbing 50% more than usual). I scored SIX (6) QOMs on Strava.
So yeah. The moral of the story is not that this guy is a dick and I should be angry at him, but that this guy is a dick, I should be angry at him, and I should go out and kick even more ass in spite of his dickish behavior.
“Be kind to me, or treat me mean. I’ll make the most of it, I’m an extraordinary machine.”
Meanwhile, Jesus. I sure would just like to find someone who wants to ride bikes with me instead of trying to create a Shakespearean drama out of it. It’s just riding bikes. It’s fun. Jeez.
Extraordinary Machine by Fiona Apple
I certainly haven’t been shopping for any new shoes
I certainly haven’t been spreading myself around
I still only travel by foot and by foot it’s a slow climb
But I’m good at being uncomfortable so
I can’t stop changing all the time.
I noticed that my opponent is always on the go
Won’t go slow so’s not to focus, and I notice
He’ll hitch a ride with any guide, as long as
They go fast from whence he came
But he’s no good at being uncomfortable so
He can’t stop staying exactly the same
If there was a better way to go then it would find me
I can’t help it, the road just rolls out behind me
Be kind to me, or treat me mean
I’ll make the most of it, I’m an extraordinary machine…