August 8, 2009 - Bicycle ride
Coming off the Manhattan Bridge in the unlit darkness. Even though I have the green three cars dart out. I curse them; then wait; then all is calm. I proceed. A box truck, not seeing me, decides that since the other cars went ahead he as well. Hits the gas. There I am, invisible, with a truck atop me, five feet away; then three feet away. I scream out; my throat will be sore all night. He stops, right there, in front of me. "Sorry!" he yells. Yells it twice. I swear back at him; no forgiveness yet. A foot more and he'd have hit me. Under a truck. Writing this up my throat hurts like hell.
| Food | Qty | Calories |
|---|---|---|
| Bicycle ride, 1 hr. | 0.7 | -333 |
| Total | -333 |