The down side of choosing to ride on obscure county roads with light traffic is the condition of the roads. My teeth chattered as my skinny bike tires transferred every single aberration in the asphalt to my head. My left hand fell asleep first, which was only a problem if I needed to brake. I was also rethinking the backpack/laptop idea, which was beginning to feel like a small child hanging off my shoulders.
It occurred to me that I apparently ride with my mouth wide open and my tongue hanging out. Besides probably looking weird, it also dries out the tongue, which turns into a flap of fleshy fly paper and catches all sorts of airborne insects. My smoothie was really unnecessary since I consumed a high protein grasshopper and four other small bugs.
I was getting a little winded, since I couldn't quite sing the breathy part of "I Will Always Love You" along with Whitney Houston. This is when gearing on a bike is important. My legs needed a little rest so I shifted to an easier gear by beating my now dead floppy right hand against the shifter. You do have to pedal faster to maintain the same speed in an easy gear. So my legs were temporarily a blur, like the Road Runner. It was such a nice rest.
I kept pedaling and sucking in that good ol' Indiana oxygen. My mind was so clear. I felt like I could probably do math. I thought about important things. I decided the wheel tax should be doubled, and possibly cans placed in convenience stores for road work donations. I almost successfully yodeled with Leanne Rimes and Eddie Arnold during the "Cattle Call" song in my ear.
And I decided next time I would purchase a lighter laptop.