I've always known that rollerblading is good for lowering my stress level, that's why when it wasn't working, initially, today I began to worry. To start, I set out on my trek going way too fast and we all know what can happen when I do that. I slowed things down somewhat and then this pompous biker passed me going 100 miles an hour yelling "Left! LEFT!" I'm not deaf you idiot, I belong on the path just as much as you, and where the F did you want me to go? I was on the right side you pass on the left, you'd think with that much hideous I'm-a-biker-who-thinks-I'm-the-shit gear on your body you would know how the bike path works. Ok, so maybe he was just trying to warn me, but I may have yelled something at his bubbly biker butt anyway. After turbo blading a short distance longer I finally got over the strange decision that I should try to catch up with the biker and ask him what his problem was, after all, wasn't this supposed to be relaxing? even fun??
My turn-around spot is a drinking fountain which wasn't turned on until, OH I DON'T KNOW JUNE?!?! (Can you tell that peeved me too?) and it turned out that the dirty bastard had totally died altogether, dribbling little drops of water out like a drooling baby. I surprised myself by kicking something in aggravation. I stood there for a minute huffing and puffing, composing nasty letters in my head to whomever is in charge of that drinking fountain. Eventually, I felt like it was safe enough for me to head home without unloading any rage on the living or non-living.
It was then that life made me stop and see some good things about my surroundings. A water ski team seemed to be practicing, right off of the shore from where I was, so I made myself pop a squat as close to the water as possible. It was amazing how quickly my attitude started to change. One of the skiers kept making a point to wave at me as their troop circled by, so of course I kept waving back. Just that simple gesture made up for the biker and made me like the human race again. I laughed as 11 baby ducks and one mother duck swam in front of me (she's gotta have it worse than me, right?) and lastly, a cute family walked past me and two of the little kids said "Hi" to me - there isn't much that can make me smile as easily as kids can.
Before I left, I started poking around in the rocks looking for FOUND treasures, things started appearing everywhere: a tennis ball, a "Merry Christmas" sticker, the token straw, no buried treasures... unless you consider sanity and feeling like yourself again treasures, then, I'd say I struck gold.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
When stressed-out = Rollerblade
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As a biker myself, I will say the guy was probably just warning you that he was on your left.
You can understand as a blader, there is nothing worse than thinking the runner/blader you are passing will suddenly shift and you'll run into them.
Last week, while on the bike path, I was yelled at by another biker when I passed two runners and sort of got in her way. I was in the zone and didn't really yield to this little old man runner. She thought I was being a firey prick, having done it on purpse, and yelled "couldn't you have waited?"
The rest of my trek, I was going over the situation in my head until I couldn't concentrate on anything else, being angry at the fellow biker bitch, wishing I would have said something back to her.
To make a long story short--I am over it, but it took a few hours.
Conclusion: Bike paths are dangerous stretches of asphalt. EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF.
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