This morning, when I returned from my 25 mile bike ride through very hilly terrain, everyone at the campground cheered. They started asking me questions like, "Did you get any flat tires?" You know, joshing me (even though, I didn't realize it at first because I was far too tired to understand anything beyond the words to "One Song, Glory" that I sang loudly as I went down all hills). I attempted to start talking as I was dismounting the bike, when I learned another important lesson. After a 25-mile bike ride, I am unable to multitask. Rather than gracefully getting off the bike, I fell over. People laughed. I laughed. A couple people came over to help me up, and the girl said, "That was all pride that got bruised there." I just laughed, knowing that I didn't bother to pack my pride for this trip.
And PPS, I may not despise camping as much as I thought. Sure, I'm not fond of sleeping in a tent because I don't sleep (especially when I set up the tent on an incline, so I wake up scrunched in the corner because I'm unable to control my body when it is in a slick sleeping bag), but the other parts of camping ARE fun. And, I'd probably have fun camping with people that I actually know (as opposed to people I recently met). And this campground had showers and toilets, so that really made EVERYTHING better.
Now it's meatloaf time.
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