The Getaway part one

Saturday

I knew I was going to get lost. I always get lost. I didn’t think I’d get lost 10 min into the ride. Here was the S22 and I…pedaling along I-5 in San Diego. How did this happen? Obviously I took a wrong turn! Then I made another wrong turn onto a different freeway. Agh! Miraculously I ended up finding the correct route in one piece.  The route I was taking (sub detour) was an out and back to Santee. I’d never ridden out that way and thought it was mostly flat. Until I started to ascend an 800ft mountain pass. It was a nice climb in the hot, exposed sun. 

The first thing on my mind upon reaching town was must find bathroom and water. I stopped at a fuel station. I enter and politely ask to use the restroom. The cashier says “No restroom here!” I respond back “I’m a customer and would like to buy something.” He says “No bathroom for you!” WTF?! As I leave I slip out…..”So you sit all day and piss yourself, asshole.” He stands and starts yelling at me. This is my que to get the f*** out of dodge.

The next attempt was a KFC. Thankfully these people were uber friendly, allowed me to use their facilities and even told me to “have fun ride.” Would you expect any less from Colonel. Sanders?

Re-hydrated I make my way back. I took a detour off and hit two threshold loops  (4-5 mi) on a nearby island. Upon heading home I get lost again! Ending up at Mission Beach instead of Ocean Beach. I should never end my rides with loops around an island. I always get topsy-turned backward. I call my dad for directions and make my way back. Finished the ride with a kickass 48.5 miles and had a painful sunburn.

We were supposed to BBQ but surprise, surprise. Dad is drunk again. Unmotivated to cook he ended up buying a local rotisserie chicken, potato salad and anti-pasta for dinner. I bought a bottle of Pinot Noir and dark chocolate and made the best of it.

This would have ended as an “OK” night if my dad hadn’t drank his weight. He went on his usual sob story. Apologizing for the past. I accept the past. I will not forget but I have learned how to forgive. The fact that he brings it up every time he drinks (which is every time I see him) gets on my last nerve. After never ending apologies he turns volatile and insulting. And once I’m at the point of crying he turns to the fact that he is going to die and it is going to be soon. I should feel guilty? I REALLY do not need this. I wanted to spend time with him and enjoy what time “we” have left together.

Thanks to my horse tranquilizer I was to cry myself to sleep.

Sunday

I was able to get out for a ride at the crack of dawn.

I rode for about 2hr rides which included 3 hill repeats and two loops around the island. This time I did not get lost. :D. 

I landed back home at 9:00am. The plan was to go to Easter Mass with my father.  But alas it’s 9am and my dad is drunk. He had started to drink right after I had left for my ride. WTF?! What happened to not drinking before noon rule? Since he was already inebriated I was left with the responsibility of making breakfast for everyone before we left. I was looking forward to Mass but my dad had a way of running that. He took his sweet time getting ready. This made us10 mins late. We had the option of standing in the main church or taking a seat in the smaller hall. I left the decision up to him, which seated us in the smaller hall. As we sat in church he complained the entire time. He insulted the church, he insulted his lady friend and he insulted his daughter, who he never gets to see. I have never been around a man who was capable of turning every word into an insult or argument. I prayed a lot. I kept reminding myself to think of the positive. There has to be some positive. The priest must have sensed my sadness as he blessed me aside from the others. I realized that I have nothing more to say to my dad. Anything I say he turns into a fight. I just let him ramble on, smiled when I could and stayed remained silent.

Here’s a picture before church 

I take many photos with smiles. Because even if life is sucking ass, when you look back at a smile you know that inside there is happiness.

My father dropped me off at the San Diego train station. My last words to him were – "I love you. Be nice to me."


I'm really tri'ing here and I don't know what to do. I love my dad. I WANT and NEED to have a relationship with him. His behavior and actions make this extremely difficult. I'll just keep reminding myself that we are blood...and look at the smilie face on my hand.