I went to a house-warming party/BBQ yesterday from 3 pm till 11 pm. Which means I drank for eight hours with plans to wake up early and ride my bike at 8 am the next day. I was responsible and made sure to be in bed by 11:30. I woke up at 7:30, made it to the lake at 7:45, stretched, and set out to ride a 10-mile lap in 30 minutes.

For the first fifteen minutes I was on a pace to finish the lap in less than my projected 30-minute estimation. My average was just above 20 miles per hour.

And then… and then. I hit the wall. Call it a bonk. Call it dehydration. Call it freaking stupid. I came up on a very gradual incline and my heart felt like it was about to bust out of my chest, and I started getting the dreaded cramp in my side. Instead of trying to be the badass and ride through the pain, I pulled over and stopped to catch my breath.

I felt like I might throw up. Woozy, light-headed, generally not good. The high-point of this experience was when an older woman on a cruiser rolled by and said “Hey, you ok?” Um, yeah, thanks. Just trying to sweat out the beer over here. I nodded yes and smiled a painful smile.

But it gets better. A cop pulled up, rolled down his window, and, head tilted, said “You ok son?” This time I managed to verbalize a response: “Yeah, thanks, just a little winded.” He smiled and drove off. Seems the punk on the second-hand $4000 bike isn’t quite up to his bike’s potential.

Moral? You can’t act like your 19 when you’re 26. Your body will make sure you suffer.