Summary: There wasn't really very much popcorn there.
The day started out with me finally biking to church (4.6 miles), then riding to the popcorn fest (maybe a mile or so from there). I found a convenient pole to lock my bike to (have I mentioned the way there are no bike racks here?) and wondered around. Got some snacks and left.
Now dear reader, comes a story. A story with an important moral. I normally reserve this blog for general narration on the state of biking in my life, for ride reports, and (when I am less lazy), reviews of commuting gear. But now I feel obligated to speak word of caution.
Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to race a recumbent just after eating lunch. It will not make you look awesome.
I'm guessing I looked "Fred" enough that he counts it as no victory, however.
Before I pull onto the rail trail, I see what seems to be a recumbent trike in the distance, off to my left. I turn right, and begin my ride toward home, eeking out 1 or 2 extra mph so that if I am passed it will not be THAT bad. The path has a very slight grade (1.5-2%) for the next mile or mile and a half, so I usually run about 15 or 16 on this section on a good day.
About halfway up the "hill", I get passed. I call out "Hi!" because I wanted to tell him his trike was pretty sweet (I think it was a Catrike Explorer--I know it was yellow). Alas, I was ignored, likely due to his iPod. I ceeded defeat, slowing to 13-14 for the rest of the "climb". He is still well within sight when I cross Grange Hall Rd. The hill continues though, so he continues to pull slightly ahead of me as we go. For some reason, even though the next block of trail is a similar slope, I am usually way faster. I try to keep my speed above 16 as I ride along now, seeing if I can catch back up. I am definitely making progress, I think, and it becomes more pronounced as I pass the park-n-ride location and move onto more level ground.
I go for my usual sprint on the slight downgrade here, and soon reach about 25. I pass the trike, and am feeling rather proud of myself when my stomach begins to protest.
"Hey, remember me? I'm that chicken pita you ate at the popcorn festival."
"How ya doin'! Man, you were delicious, but you're kind of hurting me now."
"Oh yeah? Well how about me? I'm the large Icee you washed it down with!"
"Mmm.....cherry. Ow, pain. What's with all this pain?"
"We're helping with that."
"Who....who are you?"
"We're the popcorn burger and diet coke you had just before you left. You eat too much, man."
"You may be right, but...ugh, now I'm slowing down! I lose!"
And then the trike rider passed me, since I had slowed way down at that point. Looking at the graph from my Garmin, you can actually see my stomach start to hurt toward the end of the ride.
Oh well, I've never been a racer, but I do usually end up being faster than 95% of the people I see riding on the bike path.
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