Our tenants at our Blackstone house told us they would be moving. So, on Monday, Lloyd and I needed to make a trip to the house. I would meet him there. I had the baby and needed exercise rather badly. So, I loaded up the baby into the baby bike-trailer and took off. Problem: it was at 3 in the afternoon and very very hot. From my internal temperature, it felt like 100 degrees! I had seen my family do all that riding during the week, and I felt, from osmosis that I could tackle the same kind of rigor. After all, it was only 5 miles to the house. On 29th St and Wilson, the baby started screaming, Lloyd was calling me and I was so hot I could hardly stand it. I huffed into the phone, “I’m going to meet you at Blackstone, but you need to come with a car and get the baby! He needs you very badly right now. I’m on 29th and Wilson. Hurry.”
Lloyd yelled: “WHAT ???”
I could not believe it that he couldn’t hear me. I tell him often that any time now he will need my interpreting services. Very patiently but urgently, I repeated. “Come past 29th and Wilson. Please get the baby. Goodbye. I have to keep riding so he gets air.”
I pushed myself back onto the bike and started a slow ascent up Wilson Avenue–its rather flat but it felt like a steep hill to me. (How in the world did my family ride for miles and hours on end up-hill?) I was huffing and puffing. At one point dropped my phone and almost fell as I tried to scoop it off the pavement. (what was I thinking leaving for a bike ride with a baby at 3 in the afternoon?) “Huff”–up the hill I go. finally I heard a horn honk. Thank God! Lloyd rescued the baby and tried to force me into the car: “No, Lloyd I need to do this–I will meet you at the house.” I was suppose to meet him at 4 pm–it was now 4:15. I think I will be late. I hate being late! What was I thinking? I forged ahead. I was so glad he had the baby.
I arrived at the house by 5:15, only 1 hour and 15 minutes late. I collapsed on the ground and could not move for at least 15 minutes, so really I was an hour and 30 minutes late. Lloyd and the baby were very worried about me. I will never again think that I can match my family’s skill at bike riding!
You know, I am 63 (the oldest in my immediate family here in Colorado)–my parents never bike rode with me. I think I am doing pretty well getting around like I do. But who was to think that I would have an over-the-top kind of family who would be doing so many miles? I am extremely proud of them and I often wonder if they will ever slow down for me? Hmmm…that is a conundrum J but yes, they quite often call and ask me to go on a “family adventure with them.” Which is rather nice. We have grandchildren coming up. I can keep up with them at least for awhile.