I rode my new bike again today, mostly because the weather was perfect. It was a tough choice, though, with so much college football on television. Since the Dawgs didn't kick off until 7:30 tonight, I really couldn't justify staying inside on such a perfect day for riding.
I won't bore you with the pedal-by-pedal account of where all I rode. I left with no particular route in mind, only pretty sure that I would end up at the golf course about the time Hubby finished playing. It worked out perfectly too; he texted me when I was about a mile from the golf course. Did he meet me at the BOTTOM of that kick-arse hill going into the parking lot? Of course not!
I am not afraid (enough) to ride alone, but sometimes I wonder if I'm taking unnecessary risks doing so. What if today is the day a car passes too close to me and clips me? What if some rednecks see me on a back road and decide that doing me harm is a form of sport? What if I lose control of my bike going down a hill at 30 mph and wind up in a ditch?
I have my cell phone, and if I get a chance I'm sure I can call SOMEONE to come get me. But what if I'm unconscious? Hubby knows when I'm on the road, but take today for example. He wouldn't have the first idea of where to start looking for me. I rarely take the same route twice, and like today I don't usually even plan ahead of time.
I don't drive myself crazy thinking these things, or I could easily convince myself that the only safe thing to do is stay in the recliner watching football all day.
It does make me wonder, though.
And it's much better than pondering on the fate of our football team, who seem to be able to stop teams on first down and second down, but give up chunks of yardage on third and ten, third and fourteen, third and nine.
Sorry, I digress.