So here I am in Sunriver at my conference. Our meetings take place at the Big House, and we're all staying in cabins a few miles away. Apparently, Sunriver is a "planned city" or something like that in which the houses are all on circles and there are miles of bike paths connecting them. It's actually quite cool.
This afternoon we had a couple of hours for "free time." The weather was beautiful, and I thought a nice easy bicycle ride might work some of the lactic acid out of my aching quads. I ride one of the crazy fat-tired bikes (that totally reminds me of the bike in Pee Wee's Big Adventure) back to my cabin. It didn't feel great on the legs, but it wasn't too bad either.
Around 6:30 I start back for the Big House. I mount the fat-tired bike and set off on Carrie's Big Adventure in which I first ride in the wrong direction.
About 10 minutes into the ride absolutely nothing is looking familiar. Luckily there is a directional sign with a map (including bike paths) that I'm able to use to figure out I'm a dumbass. I take back off in the opposite direction. That's when I realize it is getting dark. Really. Fast.
Becoming increasingly worried that I'm going to be stuck on a bike path in the woods with no light, I have the fantastic idea that I'll just ride reallllly fast so I can hurry and get there before total darkness hits. I'm pedaling with everything my two thighs have left, which isn't much after two marathons in two weeks, but I'm giving it my best effort...breathing hard, sweating....the whole enchilada.
And this is the part of the story where I say stuff like this only happens to me. That's right. I was once voted "most likely to be hit by a falling object" simply because weird stuff like this always happens to me. As if being lost in total darkness with shredded wheat for thighs pedaling a Pee-Wee Herman bike with stupid fat tires so hard my heart might explode isn't a weird enough situation alone? A deer had to jump right in front of me.
3 hours ago