Bike Trip - Majestic Gatorade
I had a routine that I had implemented from day one of the bike trip. Every day at the first gas station I reached, which was often after a couple hours of biking, I would stop and purchase a blue Gatorade. I would sit on the side of the gas station and indulge. With blood and brown muddy sweat drizzling down my sun burnt face, I’d unscrew the Gatorade cap, look at it fondly like it were a beautiful woman I was about to marry, tilt my head back and swiftly pour it down the hatch. I was the Gatorade poster child at these moments and Gatorade, whether it was a psychological trick or indeed had some physical basis, did increase my energy and performance.
However after being conned at the hotel I was completely out of scratch for the next day’s journey. I passed the gas station with a frown and a heart filled to the brim with hatred for the Indian woman, and still for my cancer patient looking former friend. Things in Orlando were getting to me. The trip was getting to me. This trip that was meant to clear my head was bringing all of my brain’s pain and disdain to the front line of its crevices. It was the hardest day yet and the hills were the largest. I was retreating to a dark place and wallowing in all of the things that had ever made me feel. I still couldn’t cry. It’d been almost a year since I could produce a full tear to remind myself I’m human.
I made it up a brutal hill and found myself coasting down its counter side, though I was going downhill I felt like I may pass out, the sun was wrapped so tightly around me. Just then a woman pulled to the side of the road some twenty feet ahead. She held a blue Gatorade in the air and shouted “Would you like some Gatorade?!”
My brakes were useless, so I shouted to her “I would love that! I can’t stop! Hold on!” She watched in horror as I swirved off the road to crash my bike to a stop. "Its okay, I do this all the time!" I shouted to her as I plowed into some weeds, then a tree, then fell to the ground with an "oomph" noise forced from the pit of my stomach. In hind sight this may have been some humorous foreshadowing in the dallaianc of life.
I laid on the ground for a second, and tried to get up, but the crash had taken too much out of me to be able to get up while attached to my backpack the size of God. I unlatched it and stood up. The woman was watching with a look that told me she regretted stopping and may have been cursing the good samaritan voice in her head that ever suggested it being a good idea.
I began to retreat back up the hill toward her anyway. I took the Gatorade from her and before I could comprehend what had just happened the woman was gone. It was the same color and same size Gatorade I got every day, but couldn’t get on that particular day because of my depleted funds. The coincidence was to great. It was majestic Gatorade, Gatorade from God. No. No, organized religion is the root of all evil, it’s Gatorade from the universe, I decided. I manifested this Gatorade with my mind! Thinking about the Gatorade coincidence with fondness was enough to get me through another day in Alabama. I still think my thirst quencher is evidence of a greater power beyond that of what we can comprehend, and when I die I can properly thank it for the beverage in a time of need.
However after being conned at the hotel I was completely out of scratch for the next day’s journey. I passed the gas station with a frown and a heart filled to the brim with hatred for the Indian woman, and still for my cancer patient looking former friend. Things in Orlando were getting to me. The trip was getting to me. This trip that was meant to clear my head was bringing all of my brain’s pain and disdain to the front line of its crevices. It was the hardest day yet and the hills were the largest. I was retreating to a dark place and wallowing in all of the things that had ever made me feel. I still couldn’t cry. It’d been almost a year since I could produce a full tear to remind myself I’m human.
I made it up a brutal hill and found myself coasting down its counter side, though I was going downhill I felt like I may pass out, the sun was wrapped so tightly around me. Just then a woman pulled to the side of the road some twenty feet ahead. She held a blue Gatorade in the air and shouted “Would you like some Gatorade?!”
My brakes were useless, so I shouted to her “I would love that! I can’t stop! Hold on!” She watched in horror as I swirved off the road to crash my bike to a stop. "Its okay, I do this all the time!" I shouted to her as I plowed into some weeds, then a tree, then fell to the ground with an "oomph" noise forced from the pit of my stomach. In hind sight this may have been some humorous foreshadowing in the dallaianc of life.
I laid on the ground for a second, and tried to get up, but the crash had taken too much out of me to be able to get up while attached to my backpack the size of God. I unlatched it and stood up. The woman was watching with a look that told me she regretted stopping and may have been cursing the good samaritan voice in her head that ever suggested it being a good idea.
I began to retreat back up the hill toward her anyway. I took the Gatorade from her and before I could comprehend what had just happened the woman was gone. It was the same color and same size Gatorade I got every day, but couldn’t get on that particular day because of my depleted funds. The coincidence was to great. It was majestic Gatorade, Gatorade from God. No. No, organized religion is the root of all evil, it’s Gatorade from the universe, I decided. I manifested this Gatorade with my mind! Thinking about the Gatorade coincidence with fondness was enough to get me through another day in Alabama. I still think my thirst quencher is evidence of a greater power beyond that of what we can comprehend, and when I die I can properly thank it for the beverage in a time of need.