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Writer's pictureannie wheat

journal entry #150 ish


I have so much to say but there isn't really anyone to say it all to. Mom and Dad have heard my Ranger plan fifty times over again (yet, its still in flux), Kate gets a daily voicememo about some self-hate and then self-reinvention five hours later, Gra gets a phone call here and there, but we usually get distracted talking about the glories of Silken Tofu.


As much as I hate falling into the trap of sharing workouts and validating my own physical activities through other's... these workouts are something I take the most pride in. Maybe because it feels like something I have direct control over and the effort I am able to put in whether that's in the gym, on a run... maybe even a bike. Workouts are fun, but whats even more fun in when you get to share what you did!!! This is probably my root to loving strava... but I am trying to get away from it. Like yesterday, and I finished my bike ride at 11pm and all I wanted to do was tell someone all the epic details!!! How I used an old hairband to tie a crusty toothpaste covered mini flashlight that I dug out of my gym bag to my handlebars for the last 90 minutes of my ride for my lightsource... I had 8 hours to think. A dangerously long time. But similar to showers, rides give me time and space to think (yeah, yeah i don't take 8 hour showers, but stay with me)...


I am struggling with self-efficacy. I am sitting on the couch when its the sunday of a four day weekend. I don't even like couches. I sit on mine maybe 2x a week. but thinking of doing anything else today-- even the potential for an awkward conversation with a German as they correct my pronunciation and tell me they don't speak English... I could go anywhere! I want to go nowhere! Except but to Georgia. Send me back there and I won't waste the chance this time I swear. I told myself this wouldn't become my whole personality... My fear of becoming a 2-dimensional person is coming to fruition jesus.


There's this book, titled Bittersweet, by Susan Cain. "How sorrow and longing make us whole". The introduction includes a small quiz and includes questions such as "If you've ever wondered why you like sad music... If you find comfort or inspiration in a rainy day..." This made me laugh aloud as I skimmed through the quiz in my empty apartment on a Saturday evening. It wasn't raining, but the sun was dipping below the rooftops west of my balcony, and my body was aching for some more time in the sun. My yoga mat laid sprawled out on the otherwise empty porch, my attempt to soak in any leftover rays with a UV index reading: 2.


I do wonder why I (only) listen to sad music. One time I sent my sister a song with the caption "see, I listen to upbeat stuff too!" to which the reply was "have you heard these lyrics?"


I went on a bike ride yesterday. I started at 2pm, and I had this internal resolve to ride until the sun went down. The sun sets at 9:3`1 here. 7.5 hours is plenty of time on a bike... almost nearing the "too much" timeframe. Alas, I always forgot to account for my coffee breaks... I found a shop that was still open at 5:30 on a Saturday afternoon (a rarity for rural Bavaria), (actually, if anything is open outside of the 9-11am, 2pm-4:30pm m-f, its complete luck). Anyway, my coffee break (Cafe Crema, a cold, small, round, pizze esq bread, and a fluffy donut with (Apricot?) filling took way too long, as I sat across from my bike propped against a light stand. I could hear the couple behind me kiss. I was disgusted. but in a jealous way. I knew I smelled like the 45 miles of fertilizer I had just ridden through. My hair is... well, my hair... and bike outfits have got to be one of the least flattering sportswear (or maybe I just haven't learned to style them correctly?) (how does one style a padded butt unitard and a tight, 1/4 zip with fingerless gloves??)

I sort of pretended to look at my phone-- but at this point, I am so tired of this space filler. Who am I pretending to check up on? Who could have possibly texted me? I scrolled through a few photos of the fjord ponies I came across within my first hour of my bike. cute. My fifth grade self would've been thrilled.


My downfall to my bikes is that I often stop for a break prior to halfway, like yesterday, I stopped at 44 miles. I had happened upon this coffee shop, and out of fear of the place closing early, I didn't risk getting 20 more minutes in. This left me 56 miles to cover from 6pm to home... I've never planned a route here. Biking or running. Running is a little more controllable... I mean the furthest I've gone is 18 miles and that was simply an out and back... Deciding where to bike here is similar to closing you eyes and pointing in a random direction. I can guarantee you there's a bike trail nearby. If not, ride on the highway for 5 miles and another one will pop up. The Germans are usually pretty kind to cyclists too, which is a wonderful change from Oklahoma, where I was genuinely run off the road twice by pickups and the occasional guard dog would get a little too close for comfort... peddle faster annie peddle faster.


It was 6:45 ish and I wanted to mix things up, especially knowing I still had 35 miles to cover at this point... I took a straight road, instead of turning to the right which would take me back home. I passed 3 distinctly separate, but nearly identically beautiful little towns, nestled into the backstop of Bavarian forests that cling to the shadows of the valley. They're ghostly. Quaint enough, but after hours of riding through similar towns, its rare to see more than one or two families outside. I noticed this on my first few runs and bikes through these towns. Everything: from their gardens to their cobblestone main streets, to their community bike paths, are in pristine condition, but I never see anyone at all. I'm missing something.


Two wrong turns on the bike allowed myself 1,500 additional feet of elevation gain within 8 miles. lovely. absolutely soul crushing. The only reason I didn't walk my bike up the rest of the mountain was that I feared falling if I attempted to unclip. There was no way I could gain enough momentum to allow myself the space to unclip and awkwardly slid off my seat (if you bike with clips you know exactly what I mean) and i've fallen off my bike due to clip in struggle enough times to avoid this issue all together. I accidentally glanced at my watch as I trudged up the mountain path: 2.9 mph. I couldn't believe it was possible to go this slowly on a bike and remain upright. Well.


When I go out of the forest trail and back near the main roads home, I've never been so relieved to see the sun. There were wispy clouds and its glow trickled past my bike as I headed East. While I had my wind at my back (the most important part of any bike trip home), I was pretty disappointed I didn't set my trip up to end it towards the West. I kept twisting my seat around, slowly peddling as I grabbed my phone out of my pocket to take one more sunset photo over my shoulder, bike slowly veering towards the grass shoulder every time. I've decided (at some point) I need to invest in gravel tires. I have these beautiful racing tires on my Trek. The bike is a god-like structure itself. All too expensive, and I should've saved the money for... something else? But it gives me a good laugh when I think of the salesman in OKC letting me know, "this is the perfect all-around bike, mountains, racing, tri, anything you want! I nodded... pretending like there was a chance I was going to do anything but elongated, low, slow sessions with this beautiful bike. So maybe gravel tires are a better fit for me.


Now, I am about to make some chocolate chip cookies. I don't own any measuring cups, but I have some spoons, so we'll work with what we have.


song: Where the light is by CAMPBELL




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