last night i was supposed to complete a one-hour trail run.
i am totally sick of the trails around my apartment.
i thought i'd be clever and run out at the QCTri course. even more intelligent, i thought i could save a little gas and bike there. "it's not far," i thought. "i'll just take it easy."
i'm a fucking idiot.
there is no 'taking it easy' on west Locust Street. there are lots of cars, and they are driven by slack-jawed yokel fucks who hate cyclists. on the right is a gravel dropoff. on the left is a median with a curb. best to put it in the big ring and get the fuck out of there...
when i get to west lake, i am pretty fired up to be intact. until i realize what is going down.
apparently, West Lake in the springtime is where creepy fuckers go to hang out alone in their pickups. i am followed in to the park by one of these pukes, who stays behind me at 10mph... even when the road is clear for passing. there are two pickups with guys in the parking lot i want to head into, so i head for an empty lot. Slow Truck Guy follows me in.
i am obviously not going to be leaving my bike and running here. i can hear the news already: "unidentified woman decides to run alone at West Lake surrounded only by trees, water, and lonely men. details at 10." my imagination fills in the details with images picked up from various CSI and Law & Order scenarios.
Slow Truck Guy (STG) stares me down as he passes. i stare back and pull out my multi-tool, flipping oped the flathead screwdriver (the closest thing i have to a weapon). i then nonchalantly start digging at the cleat on the bottom of my shoe. STG pulls to the other side of the parking lot, gets out, takes off his jacket, puts it behind his seat, and gets back in. he then sits there for a minute before pulling out, just as slowly as he came in. maybe the douchebag just can't figure out how to get his truck out of first gear.
fuck. now i have to turn right back around and face Locust- just to get home and run those goddamned trails i have been avoiding all along!
...but you have to go with your gut. and i have no intention of having my limp ass pulled out of the lake.