The Ride: Mason Neck

This morning dawned grey and chilly and very humid.  I wasn't exactly ready to get up, but I'd agreed to meet up with some friends from the ward for a Saturday morning bike ride.  We left a little after 7:00am and returned right before 11am, and in the intervening three-ish hours we made it down to the Mason Neck State Park (which is south of here, on the banks of the Potomac River, near the birthplace of George Mason, whoever that is) and back.  Fifty-six miles on the dot.

 

 

It was kind of a weird ride.  The route was totally new to me, so I had to rely on the others for directions.  It took us a while to get out of town, wending our way through a maze of residential streets and jogger-filled paths; both tedious on a morning ride when you want to stretch your legs and get a real workout.  But once we'd gotten out of town, we had great stretches of uninterrupted road -- and quite a few hills that were more than willing to make good on the workout. 

 

Speaking of which, I went into the ride expecting to feel depleted from a killer workout yesterday morning at the Crossfit gym (where I back-squatted 205 lbs!), but for the most part I felt great.  It wasn't until we got to the steepest hills that my glutes started screaming at me, "YOU NEED A STRONGER BUTT FOR THIS!"  To which I responded, yes, I know, we're working on it. 

 

By the time we got back, I was more than ready for a hearty second breakfast, which I decided should consist of banana waffles with natural maple syrup.  Not only do I like waffles, but I had also read in a cycling magazine that the burst of carbs would help with the post-ride recovery.  Only they didn't, really.  I overate (I was ravenous, and they were delicious, and I kept reminding myself to feel guilty about not using up all the batter, what with global hunger and all), which meant that thirty minutes later I had a double whammy of a too-full stomach and a sugar high that made me feel all fluttery. 

 

So what do you do in moments like this?  Well, I started by ignoring it but then got impatient.  Why not help things along, I thought, by just throwing up part of it?  No need to throw up everything, but maybe just those few extra bites that seemed to have put me over the edge.  Seemed like a great idea (how could it go wrong?), so I went into the bathroom and tried to figure out how to make myself throw up in a minimal, controlled way.  Turns out, it's really hard!  I mean, I tried and I tried, but all I managed was a burp.  Seriously.  I WOULD BE THE WORLD'S WORST BULEMIC EVER. 

 

Fortunately, the burp helped.  That, or by the time it came I'd simply digested all the waffles like a civilized human being.  Either way, I felt better and was able to go productively about my day.  I got a haircut and took an hour-long nap and then met Amy at the artsy movie theater downtown to watch Blue Jasmine, which ended up being sold out, so we walked over to the nearest commercial theater and saw The Wolverine instead.  Because if you can't watch Cate Blanchett in a Woody Allen movie, you might as well watch Hugh Jackman in a superhero movie, right?

 

By the time Wolverine had saved the day and all the fans were geeking out about the possibility of a sequel with a resurrected Patrick-Stewart-as-Dr-Xavier, I realized those problematic waffles had finally worn off and I was hungry.  So we stopped for a little post-movie snack at the Shake Shack (which I did not later try to throw up, I promise).  Yum! 

Our order: two SmokeShack burgers with a side of fries to share