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Meatballs and Brad ... in that order

September 24, 2018

 

 

 

Friday night cocktails on the deck in preparation for the busy weekend.

 

Saturday we went to a new brewery in Denver and 4 high alcohol beers later we somehow made it to Coperta for dinner. Now I have no idea why I do the things I do and no idea how Brad sits quietly why I do the things I do. As if the 4 beers were not enough, I insisted we get a liter of wine for dinner because I am an idiot. We placed our order and as the chef walked by our table, I grabbed him by his white jacket and wanted to know why there were no meatballs on the menu. Seriously what is wrong with me? He politely told me they serve meatballs on Monday. HELLO what about Saturday? I demanded he serve us meatballs and by gosh the waiter brought out a plate of meatballs and spaghetti on the house. I think I scared the chef and he said just give that crazy lady meatballs. I really LOVE meatballs.

 

Sunday was our bike'n brew which is another way for Brad to torture and possibly kill me. He knows the only way to get me to exercise is to offer drinks and food as a reward.  I was wearing my lucky blue shirt so I could fly from one brewery to the next.

 

I was good for the first 18 miles, but Brad almost got his wish on the last 2 miles. Let me explain the world of fat cycling and unfortunately meatballs contribute to this. Although everyone promotes overweight people to exercise, try finding your size in the cycling world. You skinny cyclers know what I am talking about. Anything over a size small is considered "chubby" and very difficult to find. I have ordered an XXL and could not get my arms in the thing. Climbing hills takes more effort and lung capacity while descending the hills comes with greater speed and the real possibility of me breaking every single bone in my body and splattering my brains on the asphalt. Then there is the cadence when cycling - how to pedal efficiently. Honestly I am just pedaling to get me from point A to point Brewery without the sag wagon picking me up. 

 

Those final 2 miles, Brad pushed me from the back and then complimented my spinning. I almost decked him.

 

All I need in life is meatballs and Brad.

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