The Weak, The Sick, The Old: They Make Easy Prey, But Now That I've Read This Post, I Realize They Don't Always Make Up Funny Stories About It

We planned a bicycle ride today. It was billed as a hard workout even though I explained that I'd be overeating for the weekend of Father's Day, which would make me slow, and paying bills which would make me sad. We had a nice gentle ride up the Hillside, to a steep hill. I was first up that, and second up the next, that was like riding up an elevator shaft. At the top of that one, while the others discussed where we should go next, I slumped over my handlebars thinking that if I threw up, I wanted to be sure and not do it in my helmet. I told them I didn't care where we went, as long as it was downhill. We did go downhill briefly, then a left turn. I missed the light so I jumped onto the bike trail next to the road, while my friends rode up the road. Because I was on the trail, and because I wasn't fully recovered from the earlier hill, they quickly got ahead of me. As I straggled past a house they had passed before me, a small black dog ran down the driveway barking at me, and then followed me, yipping, for blocks while I tried to catch up with my friends. When I finally got to where they were waiting for me, they formed a protective circle like caribou with their young, and the dog ran after easier prey, a jogger in this case.
While they discussed where they wanted to go next, a small portion of the sky, right above Rich''s flashing strobe headlight started to whirl in time with it. They rode off again, while I struggled to get up on my bike. When I caught up with them again, where they were waiting for me, again, I told them I had maybe twenty minutes before my migraine kicked in. I told them I'd be fine riding home by myself, but true friends they escorted me home.