Bees, and snakes, and groundhogs! Oh my!

It’s really starting to feel like my feet have big bulls eyes painted on them. Why, do you ask? Besides fracturing a bone in each of them, a bee managed to fly right into my flip flop and sting me on the bottom of my second toe.

I believe my exact words upon feeling the stinger were, “F@%K!!!!!!!!! You’ve got to be f@$king kidding me!” It swelled up like a little sausage. I haven’t been stung by a bee since I was a little kid. I forgot that it hurts like a bitch.

Then, even before the bee incident, snakes and groundhogs have been trying to push me off my bike when I’m riding on trails. They’re not directly attacking my feet, but I feel like that’s what they’re going after. It’s a gut feeling I have, and since everything else has happened to my feet, why not add a snake and groundhog bite?

I don’t mind the groundhogs so much because they’re cute. They like to run out in front of me when I’m biking, particularly when I’m sprinting. On the trail where I see them, there is plenty of room to swerve to avoid hitting them. But these are big groundhogs, like the size of a small dog. If I hit one, I would fly over my handlebars and break my foot or my face. The groundhog would probably walk away unharmed or come over and bite my foot to just really kick me when I’m down.

What I do mind are the snakes. I am scared to death of them. I would rather get stung by a bee again in my foot then see a snake. If I was in my car and ran over a snake, I’d be fine with that. But on my bike, my skin is too close to its fangs. Even typing this is giving me the chills.

The last three times I have gone biking in Maryland on a nature trail there have been big black snakes crossing the trails. Yes, I realize you’re supposed to see nature on a nature trail, but why does it have to be snakes?! They’re the width of the trail, that’s how big they are. I’ve had to swerve off the path, narrowly missing their heads or tails.

A few weeks ago I didn’t see the snake crossing until much too late and rode right past its head. The other times I’ve only seen the tail. But in my mind I see the snake jumping up and attacking me. It’s not that far fetched considering I’m endangering its life with my bike. But it is a good motivator to go faster. When I do see one I want to instantly get home and get the hell away from nature.

So here’s my warning to you nature: back off. I’ve had enough injuries this year. I’m helping your environment by walking and biking, and not driving my car. So show me a little respect by not trying to knock me off my bike or sting me. Thank you.

If my stomach virus was a person, I’d punch it in the face

I guess I should take the hint by now. Apparently someone doesn’t want me participating in any athletic events, or my body just hates me. First I fracture both of my feet before the Broad Street run. Then I get a stomach virus the day before the ACS bike-a-thon. WTF?

I was devastated Sunday morning when I finally made the call not to ride. After 24 hours of puking my brains out, not sleeping, and running a fever, I came to the realization that I might seriously harm myself if I rode my bike 66.2 miles.

Literally, up until 5:30 a.m. on Sunday, I thought I was going to ride. As soon as the puking passed on Saturday morning, I started downing electrolytes and toast. I thought if I could just recuperate fast enough, I would feel fine on Sunday.

I was being a stubborn little brat. When my fever finally broke Saturday night, I laid out my clothes for the next day and packed my bag. I even woke up in the middle of the night remembering that I didn’t pack sunscreen. I certainly didn’t want to get burned.

Then I woke up at 5:30 a.m. on Sunday and walked to the kitchen. The thought of eating breakfast disgusted me, and my lack of sleep coupled with my dehydration hit me — I wasn’t going to make it a mile, let alone 66.2. WORST FEELING EVER.

The crappiest part about it is that I raised so much money for it too. The money still goes to the ACS, but the people who gave me their money where cheated of seeing me torture myself for 66.2 miles. Luckily, my two friends rode the course, and I vicariously lived through them that day.

Another part that sucks are the weeks of spin classes and training that didn’t get used. All that hard work for nothing!! I know there was no way this virus could have been prevented, but I’m so angry that it took this opportunity away from me. If this stomach virus was a person, I’d punch right in its ugly little face.

So here’s the moral of the story: I will not be signing up for any events until I am 26 years old. Almost every goal I set for myself when I turned 25 has not been reached due to my numerous injuries or illnesses. The only thing I’m managed to do is learn how to cook. But there’s still time to screw that up!