Long Haul/Short Ride

So today was Harry's second track meet.  It was rescheduled from last Thursday due to rain and thunder.  He was running in three events and I didn't want to miss them.  But Monday is also my day to exercise.  I usually either ride or run with my triathlon training group.  I came to the conclusion that the only way to get in my exercise would be to ride to the meet.  It's not far.  If I took the most direct route, it'd probably be about 3 or 4 miles.  But there are a lot of side roads that I can take to make it pretty much any distance I want.  I decided that I'd shoot for 10 miles, watch the meet and then catch a ride home with Rob.

So I left home at about 3:15 and turned off onto a familiar side street.  I ride this road all the time.  It has some rolling hills, some open fields and some twisty turns.  I got to the end and saw I was making good time.  I went up by Roseland Park.  Noted that there was very little litter on the section of the road that the Jog with Judy was on this weekend.  Stopped to take a picture of a waterfall.  And then started the climb that would take me to the track.

It was a nice easy ride.  Perfect for the amount of time I had available.  I racked up my bike and then walked around to find Harry to let him know I had arrived.  That was when I saw it.  You know, the look.  The "mom, you are embarrassing me" look.  The "please just go away while my friends are around me" look.  I recognized it instantly.  And who could blame him.  I arrived in padded spandex bike pants, a bright red bike shirt that had pockets bulging with essentials (camera, cell phone, license, house keys), a helmet, and those silly bike shoes.  Plus, I was a little sweaty.  So who could blame him, really.

So while waiting for his races, I thought about how many times I must've given that look to my own mother.  Not that my mother ever showed up for anything dressed like that, because she didn't.  She was (is) always impeccably put together.  No.  I gave her looks at the store or at an office when she would fight over something.  I don't remember now what it was for...maybe being overcharged for something, maybe for bad customer service...who knows.  But I remember being mortified when she would ask to speak with a manager and would argue and argue until some point of resolution.

But as it turns out, that is what I most admire in her now.  She stands her ground.  Fights her own battles.  She is not meek.  She is bold and confident.  Has a great sense of right and wrong.  And demands that people be accountable for their actions and admit when they are wrong.  And she is willing to admit when she is wrong, too.  I never saw any of that when I was 10.  But I see it now. 

What does this have to do with biking?  Not much.  But I hope that these eye rolls and pleading looks to not embarrass him will one day translate into him remembering my strengths.  Because I want him to remember that his mother worked hard at fitness.  And found ways to fit in exercise and still be there to support him in his activities.  I hope he remembers that he ran a 5K side by side with me at the age of 8 and he's still crossing the finish line with me when I'm 80.  Because I'm in it for the long haul.  Both motherhood and physical fitness.  And I hope one day he'll admire me for it.

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Stats:
Distance:  6.48 (short of my goal, I know)
Average speed: 12.7
Max speed:  26.3