File this one under Yet Another of My Bad Ideas. I knew better, but I did it anyway. As usual. I have this little quirk in my personality, you see – I never, ever, ever listen to my instincts or act on the warnings from the little voice in my head. I know when there’s a bad idea in front of me, but I always do it anyway. Like, when I put on a new pair of shoes on the way out the door, and I think, “You know these are going to kill your feet and give you blisters – and you have a bit of walking to do today. At least take your sneakers with you.” But I don’t take the sneakers. And I don’t take the shoes off. Instead, I scream and limp down the street thinking, “I KNEW this was a bad idea!” and spend my free time racing back to my flat to change shoes and stick blister plasters all over my feet.
It started innocently enough. They told me that it would be 23 kilometers. I quickly did the math in my head – thanks to the road trip Boy & I took through Portugal 2 years ago, I’m a whiz at this conversion. Don’t ask me about Fahrenheit and Celsius though, I’ve no fucking clue. 20 Celsius is warm. 8 is cold. That’s about all I can tell you about Celsius. Anyway. So 23 km.. that’s around 13 miles. I’m not a runner. Or a biker. Or a skiier. Or anything that would have given me the knowledge to have a feel for how far 13 miles is. No, wait – I was a driver. I loved my car. I know that takes a very short time, by car, to go 13 miles. If someone lives 13 miles from me, that’s close. Yeah?
And then I thought how, last year when I was teaching the same intensive course with the same women in another town – cesky krumlov – they also went bike riding. I declined every time, feeling guilty because I was working, but also feeling indignant because physical exercise is not part of the job description – and this town was full of hills and valleys and I knew I’d be a dead woman in the first 30 minutes. THIS town, however, is full of man-made lakes and is flat as a 10 year old girl (errr.. they mature quickly these days… let’s say 7 years old), no mountains. Can’t I manage that? And besides, wasn’t I whining about how I need to be more physically active and that I’d really LIKE to do things like take leisurely bike rides? Most places in the Czech Republic are hilly, I should take advantage of this opportunity. Plus, it really is beautiful here, in Trebon’. Fall is definitely upon us.
The bikes were at our hotel. Problem #1, which seemed minor at the time, was that I have not been on a bike in at least 16 years. No, really. An even then, it was only up and down our driveway. (I’m a lover, not a fighter, ok? Err.. lover, not an active sport person.) Is there a reason bikes have such tiny little seats? Dear god, that’s tiny and badly positioned. In a position to bruise the tender part of your ass, that is.
4:15 pm – We left the village and crossed over into The Nature (you’ll get that joke if you’re an English teacher in Prague. “The Nature.”) Flat little bike path along the first lake. Aaah… isn’t that pretty. Smell the fresh Autumn air. Ooh, that seat is a little uncomfortable, will take some getting used to. It’s flat, so I feel like I’m getting some exercise, I’m moving, but not so much strain. Flash forward… we’ve passed into the woods – THE WOODS, riding over bumpy, rock-ridden terrain, over foot bridges… literally over the river and through the woods, people. I learn to slow down as I pick up speed flying down a hill, my front wheel bumping into rocks and threatening to send my flying off-course. At one point they mentioned that we’d gone 7.5km and I thought, “Wow! We’re almost 1/3 of the way through! I can do this!” I was sweating, ever so slightly uncomfortable, but feelin’ fine. In one ear I have a headphone, listening to my iPod at the lowest volume as I field their questions about The Nature and English words. We learn, “Keep an eye out for…” vs “Watch out,” “Keep your eyes on,..” and “Be mindful…” I tell them that no matter what they think they’ve read, you can’t say, “Mind out.” Maybe that’s some crazy British-ism, and the Brits speak funny English.
5:15 Hana warns us that we have limited light, the sun sets around 6:30. I’m thinking, “6:30? Who cares? You can’t seriously mean we’re going to take 2 hours to do this?”
This is where I lose track of time. At some point, I start to get tired. There are no hills, but being completely out of biking shape, the slightest inclines sap my energy. My legs are straining a bit and my ass is bruised. We go up one incline that you’d never know is an incline, looking at it, but I know it’s an incline because I’m straining. I decide to hop off the bike and walk it, taking a break. I stop, I put my left foot on the ground and swing my right leg up and over… except it doesn’t go all the way over, and I catch my foot in the bike, whacking my right ankle against the bike (big, black bruise #1) and then fall over, slamming my palm onto the ground to break my fall (big, black bruise #2) but not breaking it enough because I feel my knee slam into the pavement (big, black bruise #3, including nasty-looking red scratches.) Radka, my other student, heard me yelp and came back to help me. Feeling like a COMPLETE ASS, I brush her off, insist I’m ok and even though my knee hurts (not so badly I can’t keep going, but I should have rested a moment), I hop back on the bike and keep going.
Oh, dear god, people. Radka and Hana are cycling quickly, because… ya know, it’s getting darker. I’m worried because I’m holding them back, trying desperately to keep up but being completely unable to, so I’m lagging. Every time I catch up, Hana is consulting a map (bad sign) and THEY get a rest, waiting for me and checking map, but by the time I catch up, they move on again and I GET NO FRIGGIN REST.
At some point, I started to pray. Ok, I didn’t pray exactly, but I did start saying things like, “Dear god, help me…” and bargaining with him. I’m convinced, now, that there is a god, and he heard me, because when I started whining like this, I got little hills and downgrades, and just enough of a break to keep going until I wanted to cry again.
It’s been a couple hours. They keep telling me, “Oh, the next part is easy.” I’m thinking that during class the next day, we may need to revisit some vocabulary. Maybe a lesson on what “easy” means and the allowable distance to use phrases such as, “just up ahead,” and “not so far now.”
It’s getting darker and darker. I’m near crying. I have no idea when this is going to end because… well, like I said. Non-native English speakers simply cannot communicate the distance to me. Lagging behind, I’m thankful it’s dark so they can’t see if I start crying, and I’m cursing under my breath and swearing that I will never get on a bike, never for the rest of my life. Not for my parents, if they visit, not for BoyMan, not for my friends, not for anyone. I’d say not even for god, but he’s been helping me along this little joyride and I’m sure he’s merciful enough to never ask such a thing of me. Anything else, ok?
Then it really is dark. We went the wrong way a couple times, backtracked… and I, about 20 feet behind them, started huffing and puffing and absolutely could not go any further. I couldn’t see them ahead of me and I felt panicked. I stopped and jumped off the bike. They realized I stopped and came back to help me out. They suggested I sit down for a bit, and I worried about the fact that it was so dark, and then I worried that if I stopped, if I got off that devil-bike, that it would hurt worse when I got back on. But when I stopped and tried to breathe, suddenly I couldn’t. Well, I couldn’t not breathe, I just couldn’t take deep breaths, so I started making all kinds of funny noises and I felt, again, like an ass, because here I am biking with 2 women, 15 years older than me, who I’m supposed to be teaching, and I go on a little bike ride with them and start falling apart. Hana starts shoving caramels at me and I shove 5 of them in my mouth. I’d kill for a bottle of water. Why did I not bring a bottle of water? I also mention that my knee, which was fine earlier, has started throbbing and I can’t walk on it very well.
Funny, eh?
My legs are like jello. I get back on the damn bike. I’m afraid to ask how much farther, and I know that even if I did… they’d tell me, “Not much farther.” They do tell me that once we’re done with this part, we’ll get to the highway, and then our hotel is 5 minutes from there. We go off a road, back INTO The Nature and I begin to think that riding a bike, in the dark, at a fast clip, is not such a good idea. I mean, it’s not pitch black, but it’s pretty friggin’ dark. I have good night vision, but I can barely see the ground in front of me. As I’m about to announce that I’ll WALK through this part, thank you, Hana yells in front of me, and I catch something about, “We should walk,” as she veers away from her path. I realize what’s happening and stupidly attempt to stop and veer away at the same time, but it doesn’t work, and I crash into the hole, falling over again, laying on the ground with the bike on top of me.
They were nice enough not to laugh. The bike is on top of me, I attempt to stand. My legs give out, beyond jell-o now. I give up and flop back down, still with the bike on top of me. “I can’t move my legs,” I say. Radka grabs the bike, “The bike is off you,” she announces. Umm… thanks. Again, I try to bounce up, and fall back down. “Nope,” I say, “The legs aren’t working.” She offers her hand and pulls me up. Hana looks at me (I think – it’s hard to tell because it’s so dark out) and says, “We should walk now.”
Ya think?
We walk until we reach a huge meadow. Around the meadow is the bike path. Across the meadow is the road we need to get to. My heart pounds. It will take hours to get around the meadow. Before I can ask, Hana grabs her bike and starts marching through the meadow. We all follow. It’s the biggest damn meadow I’ve ever seen. It took no less than 30 minutes to cross it. Radka makes a comment about hoping there’s no holes anywhere. “Don’t worry,” I say, “If there is, I’ll be in it.”
My knee is screaming, my thighs are sore, but I’m so thankful to be walking that I don’t care. Finally we get across the meadow, hop back on the fucking bikes and zip down the hill back into the village and our hotel. Once we get to the bottom of the hill I tell them that I know where we are, and I’ll walk from here, ok? They walk with me, since we’re literally only 5 minutes from the hotel door.
Once inside the hotel, I get strange looks and I realize that I’m covered with weeds and those little burr-like things that stick to your clothes (and hair.) I spend 45 minutes picking them off my favorite sweatshirt. We go to eat dinner, I treat myself to a big, fat dessert, a glass of wine, and then leave them to steam myself in the shower for 30 minutes. I’m hoping if I heat my muscles enough, I won’t be in pain the next day. My students were oh so kind as to tell me that, “it will be much worse tomorrow.” Oh, you’re too kind.
I took a painfully hot shower and it seemed to have numbed my muscles. But then I couldn’t get comfortable or fall asleep because my legs hurt so badly and they didn’t like one single position I attempted. But thankfully, the pain today is much less than I expected. I have to be careful no to bump my knee, and I have to be careful how I sit (butt, bruises), and I move slowly. All in all, though, it’s not so bad today. BUT I AIN’T NEVAH SITTIN’ MY ASS ON ANOTHER BIKE FOR AS LONG AS I LIVE.
Oh, and by the way… we got back at 9pm. Do you remember when I said we started? 4:15. 23 kilometers? Hmph. I. don’t. think. so.
They went for another ride today – I declined. They joked about being back by dark and I said if they weren’t, I’d send a search team out for them. That was at 3:15. It’s now 8:20 and I haven’t heard from them for dinner. Crazy ladies.