Earlier in the summer, a friend from church mentioned that I should get a partner and do this race called the Muddy Buddy. It is approximately 7 miles, and you run and bike with your partner. One person starts the race running, the other biking, and then you switch at certain points in the course. The course is divided up into 5 or 6 legs, and at the end of each leg, you complete an obstacle. I agree, and I find a partner- Briana- and we sign up for the race.
I figured I should do some biking before showing up on race day not having biked since middle school (ok, slight exaggeration, but you get the point). So, I haul a bike from my parent's house, and start my 'training.'
After a few days of riding around my neighborhood, I remember how I saw this trail on the way from work one day.... and I decided to find it. So... I go to find the trail. I found the trail and started making my way on the trail. Dowwwwn a hill and back upppp a hill, and down, riding next to a main highway. In my mind, it made sense that this trail would loop, no such luck. The trail heads over the Minnesota river and river valley, and starts to curve back up to the top of the hill.
At the top of the hill, I notice tall buildings, like a Hilton and Embassy Suites. I am trying to run through a map in my head of where I ended up. So I continue biking a little further and I see a large building, also known as, the Mall of America.
Yep. That's right. I accidentally biked to the Mall of America. Really. So I am still biking, now along a sidewalk, and I realize I am stumbling upon a nature preserve (remember, I just biked over the Minnesota River, which apparently has a nature preserve). I now decide to find an alternate route home that is hopefully a little more direct. I find this path that heads down a hill in the direction of my house, so I take it. ( I am not sure if I am going to forge the river Oregon-trail style with my bike, but I know I can figure it out.)
(Time out: It is nearly 8pm. I am without a cellphone, water bottle, or any proper identification, Time in)
I am heading down this trail, it gets steeper and steeper down hill. It is gravel, and in parts, is washed out from heavy rain. I continue on, and enter into the portion of the trail covered by the tree canopy, so it is nearly dark. I IMMEDIATELY get swarmed by 1.98 million mosquitos. As I am slapping my body, I realize there is no one around, except for the kidnapper/murderers undoubtedly hiding in the thick undergrowth waiting for an inexperienced, blonde, tired, somewhat-lost biker to come into the isolated portion of the trail. Upon this epiphany, I know I should head back. I bike a little further and see a sign stating "0.2 miles to nature preserve center this way" with an arrow pointing uphill. I decide I should take this path, and head back home the way I came.
I start biking back towards the preserve, slapping at mosquitos the entire way. After getting a portion of the way back up this hill, I encounter something. A new challenge. Stairs. That's right folks, this part of the path is NOT for the bikers or handicapped, it is a walking path. At this point, it is getting too late to turn around. I have contracted west nile and malaria, and I am just wanting to get out. So, I start trying to walk my bike up the stairs. That doesn't work because the stairs are spaced far enough apart where the tire gets stuck on every stair and I have to lift the bike. I end up hoisting the *&#$#(* bike over my shoulders, and carrying it the rest of the 0.2 miles uphill, to reach the nature preserve and the rest of civilization.
Realizing that I have to bike the ENTIRE way back from the Mall of America to my house, I set off in search of a water fountain at the nature preserve. Do you know that there was not a single outdoor fountain for the lost/stranded biker like myself? Cursing the preserve, I get back on my bike, interrupt a hippie-nature club by biking through it, and head home.
I bike all the way back home, and stagger into my house. I am certain that I resembled a person who found their way out of a desert. I drank water like I had been stranded in the Sahara, and had to explain to my roommates what just happened to me.
The next day, I schedule a massage b/c I was sore. My massage therapist, Jason, who I have been seeing once/month with my massage membership (yes, there are such things and I highly recommend them for idiots like me) starts trying to work the knots out. About 12 minutes in, he basically tells me that my neck is out of alignment. I politely mention that things like that happen when you bike long distances, alternating butt cheeks, because your pelvis is permanently knocked from the bike you accidentally rode too far and for too long. I may or may not have mentioned how parts of my body fell asleep that I didn't realize could fall asleep because of my poor biking posture. Whatever. I think he may have said then that he didn't want to talk about it... I am not sure. Poor Jason.
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