The Horse That Poops Fast….

3362_wpm_lowresMomma always told me, “The horse that poops fast, doesn’t poop long.”  (Hopefully, you read that first sentence in your best Forrest Gump voice.  Otherwise, all of my hard work stealing that line from the movie was in vain.).

Truth be told, my mom DID tell me that.  She had taught me how to play Rummy 500 – and would quickly humble me when I would throw a bunch of plays down right away to rack up some points.

If you aren’t quite sure what she meant by that statement, she essentially was telling me to go ahead and get the points while I can.  Typically, when one gets points “fast,” those easy points come to a quick end.

And she was usually right….   The rest of the hand, I would struggle to make any more matches.  She’d usually come back big and beat me that hand.

The same “fast horse pooping” mentality can apply to cycling, too.  Yesterday, I experienced first-hand the principle.  My best friend, Jason, and I started out on a Sunday afternoon ride at one of our favorite riding spots.  We opted to take a route that we hadn’t yet done this year (it was finally warm enough to brave the creek crossing.), and I started off feeling pretty good.

As we went out across the top of the mountain – and down the technical, rocky trail to the bottom – I was feeling “on.”  We stopped at a trail intersection for a few moments, and then continued on down until we came out to a paved road.  It was one of those rides where it felt pretty effortless to go through those sections.

And I knew I was feeling good when Jason made a remark that I was “cruising pretty good through those last sections.”  It’s a comment that one rider typically makes to another when they’re not feeling quite as fast. (I’ve said that line many times over the years.)

It turns out, though, that – although I felt pretty good for that section – my “on” riding was quickly coming to an end.  As the horse who was pooping fast, I soon found myself, er, pooped!

We had a section of fairly level riding – but only for a bit.  Then, it was pretty much a climb for a good portion of the remaining ride.  Now, I’m not the smallest rider – and gravity ain’t my friend when going uphill – but climbing when I’m spent is just torture.

My friend, Jason, had tempered his riding – and he was still feeling fresh enough to ride and climb (of course, he’s a little skinny guy, too – but I’m not using that as my excuse).  Just like my Mom kicking my butt at cards after my fast play at points, Jason was now kicking my butt on the bike.

I don’t know if I ever got to tell him that he was “cruising pretty good through those last sections.”  It’s not that I didn’t want to, I was just toast and not thinking clearly by the end of the ride (and, yes, I was trying to catch up, too).  Heck!  My legs are still tired a whole day later!

Thanks, Mom, for teaching me that lesson so many years ago.  I guess I still don’t always listen, or I wouldn’t get myself into these situations anymore.

And thanks, Jason, for waiting for the pooped horse yesterday!

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