Commuting...

I'm a planner... not a big surprise given my OCD tendencies. When we decided the Hubby would drive north to pick up our daughter and her offspring, I made a plan to ride my bicycle to work the same day. Perfect opportunity to break out of my slug-like less-then-training routine. Its less than 6 miles and though its a busier street there is a bike lane the entire way.

As the day approached our children got involved. Son #2 says "its kind of far Mom". Uh yea that's why I'm not going to walk.  DIL and Son #1 chimed in offering a ride because its a busy street with lots of crazy drivers in this town.  I could get hurt.  Yea kind of like how you can get hurt on a motorcycle when you have to drop it in an intersection to avoid hitting a car running a red light... Yet someone in our household still rides a motorcycle and his sons don't fuss at him. Oh and then there was the weather forecast... Mike argued it would be too hot... Son #1 argued it would rain. Then Son #1 said he would accompany Dad on 6 hour trip one-way up and back. 

I am actually very grateful for his offer to keep Dad company. And in his absence he left me his truck.  As it turned out, the skies were not coorperating the morning I'd planned to ride my bicycle to work so I took the truck.

As I approached the truck I realized it was very HIGH in the air.  I stopped and gauged a graceful entrance strategy, briefly driveway, propelled my 6' self with my 36" inseam through the open door and onto the seat...  SUCCESS!  I even rated myself an 8 for the dismount (it was a little wobbly on the release).  

Once inside I became aware that the previous owner of #1 son's truck must have been a 350lb man.  The lack of springs in the seat was the first give-away.  The next clue was the view.  I found myself peering through the steering wheel, over the dash, to the great outdoors.  Yes.Me.  Struggling to even have the slightest opening.

I have an entirely new outlook on short people. 

Once underway I thought "this is a breeze".  I learned to drive with my dad's van, a 3 speed on the column and have been driving stick shifts ever since.  How hard could six speeds be?  Ok so that's a rhetorical question.  Turns out my son may or may not have mentioned to start the truck out in second gear because it was easier.  Fortunately there aren't many corners for the trip to work.  At one light I honestly gave myself whiplash, chugga, chugga, chugga, head and neck struggling to keep an eye on the road.  (Turns out it's harder to describe that motion in words than I first realized...)

The last corner into my work parking lot in view...  feeling confident I'd made it safe and sound.  To my horror I see a man parked in the empty area, which would be my destination, with a small dog pacing back and forth next to his vehicle.  I carefully rounded the corner, very aware of the gear I was shifting down into...  and managed to avoid the need for a neck brace but going into a much higher-lower speed, coasting the corner feeling out of control.  The only thing left to do was hang on, close my eyes and yell "Run Doggie Run"!

Thankfully I had twelve hours of work to recover before my trip home.