116 Miles, or Why I Should Forget the Numbers and Just Ride

27 December 2014

At the end of each year I've been adding up my miles from all of my bikes, looking at the number, and promptly forgetting what it is.  That works pretty well, because when someone asks me how far I ride each year, I can honestly shrug my shoulders and say, "Dunno."

Last year was different.  I typed all the miles into the notepad on my phone, then promptly forgot the total.

This year I did the addition a week early.  I had totals for Kermit, Miss Piggy, Grover, Gonzo's share of the commuting miles, and, next to Beaker's name, the total miles commuted this year. I looked at the total, looked at last year's total, and figured out that if I put in 116 miles by the end of the year I'd tie last year's number.

It's not as if I'd lose sleep if I didn't tie.  But still, with the weather forecast for Friday and Saturday as glorious as it was, I had a good chance of getting pretty darn close.

Saturday's off-the-books ride started from Mercer County Park.  I can add about 15 miles if I ride from home.  I didn't know how many miles Tom had in mind.  That didn't matter, it turns out, because Tom had spent Christmas day praying to the porcelain goddess and was in no shape to lead a ride.  Long story short, 63 miles and two tubes later, I was 54 miles shy of my goal and holding a private tire changing party in my living room.

There's an easy way to add distance to any Cranbury ride:  Ask Plain Jim if he wants to start from Plainsboro.  So today we did, and I ended the day with 56 more miles.  That would put me two miles over last year.

At home I figured I ought to check my math, seeing as how I'm so bad at it.  I added Gonzo's miles, Beaker's miles, Grover's miles, Miss Piggy's miles, and Kermit's miles.  I came up with 122 miles more than I had when I first started figuring things out.

Let's try this again.

Gonzo, Grover, Kermit, Piggy, wait.

I didn't just commute on Beaker.  I had her out on the road.  122 miles, to be exact. That's what that 122 is, sandwiched between the words "Beaker" and "total commute."

This is why I shouldn't keep track.

Don't ask me how many miles I wound up with in 2014.  I've already forgotten the exact number.