The scotties and my daddy would smile

I had a flat while riding tonight...it was neither expected or appreciated. I was irritated but only mildly irritated. Here's what I look like, mildly irritated:

I had intended to ride at least 30 miles...I ended with 14.98; Let's not discuss speed. Despite my irritation, I really did want to change my own tire. I sat down in the garage where no one could hear me cuss:

About a year ago, my BFF and I tried to change the tube in her tire and it was a huge disaster. My children are still deaf from the sound of her tube exploding....but I learned a valuable lesson...always check the inside of the tire to determine if there is debris that caused the problem. In her case it was a thorn...and we didn't check for it. In my case, I found the culprit, it was a tiny shard of metal - almost like a straightened staple. So I was momentarily elated...until I couldn't figure out how to "true" the wheel correctly. I did what no woman ever wants to do...I asked my husband for help.


I came home to change my tire in the privacy of my garage because I wasn't sure I could change it without looking like and idiot. I guess it's better to look like an idiot in front of one's husband than the entire group you're riding with. In my case, it still makes me mad. I like to have that "I don't need a man" kind of attitude. Here's what I think of women who are afraid to dirty their fingers or chip their pedicure:

I am capable of anything - that's what I learned from the women's college that I attend. When I was a child, my dad used to tell me that he could do anything he put is mind to - he could fly a fighter jet if you gave him enough time to tinker with it. At the time I believed him and as an adult, I still believe him. I also believe that I've adopted the same sense of determination he had, even though I'm not sure it's the kind of determination my daddy intended for his daughter. I'm sure my husband might even appreciate a "more delicate" sort of wife. But they've grown to accept me...I think.

When I experience failure, which I often do, I become especially standoffish and irritable. I don't mean to "clam up" or act "grouchy", but failure serves as confirmation that I'm not the person I was taught to be. I become easily irritated and any sense of humor I may have had about the situation completely diminishes. As the innocent bystander affected by my many moods, my husband would likely attest that what I've just explained is quite the understatement. I hate to feel as though I can't do something that I put my mind to. I was overwhelmed with this feeling tonight. It sucks.

So I got my hands dirty and I proved that a woman can change a tire, even if it's only on a bike. I'm not okay with this, but I'll sleep on it and undoubtedly feel better in the morning. My husband...well, hopefully he'll forgive me for my grouchy ways...and tomorrow I'll do what daddy would have wanted and I'll visit the LBS to see if they'll give a "girl" a hand.