Musta Got Lost

My wife, Jennifer, started a new job this week and got lost on her commute to work this morning. She had driven to work every day this week but on Friday, being a cool, sunny morning with hints of a New England fall in the air, she decided to walk. 

We live 1.2 miles from her place of employment in a town we’ve lived in for 13 years and she got fucking lost walking to work. 

Last year when they opened up a new bike path near our home that leads directly to my office, I decided it might be fun to ride my bike to work some mornings. So you know what I did? A test run.

That’s right. One Saturday morning, I hopped on my bike to do a test run on the route that I would be taking to work the days I decided to ride. A test run is a beautiful thing. It allows you to make mistakes along the way like perhaps, make a wrong turn. Maybe discover an unexpected obstacle along the way. And most importantly, once you figure out the proper route, it allows you to time it. And the time is pretty accurate because unlike driving to work, when you ride or walk, there is simply no such thing as traffic. I even invited my wife along with me on this test run so she could ride along with me and help keep an accurate timetable of how long my biking commute would take. With this test run I would know the time I would need to leave, what route I would take, and what time I would arrive at work, all in the name of making it to work on time.

Jenn did not do a test run before deciding that she was going to walk to work on Friday. And really, why would she need to? Like I said, we live 1.2 miles from where she now works in a town we have lived in for 13 years. 

But while getting ready for work, as is oft to happen, Jenn second-guessed her outfit for the day, which happened to be casual Friday. Asking for my opinion, which I need to stop giving, I suggested the shirt she was wearing looked like a winter sweater.

She countered with, “But it’s cotton, it won’t be hot.”

I didn’t think it would be, I was just pointing out that the pattern looked a bit “wintery”. Doesn’t look bad, and probably won’t be too hot, just my initial thought, and if I’m asked for my opinion, it usually means that she’s having doubts too. Now she was on to changing shirts, cutting into her commuting time.

She eventually made it out the door with at least 20 minutes to spare, maybe more. Plenty of time.

But about 15 minutes later, as I was putting my sneakers on in the dining room to get ready to go to work, my phone rang, and it was Jenn. Panicking.

“Can you come pick me up? I went the wrong way and I don’t want to be late.”

“Yes, of course, I’m leaving right now. Where are you?”

“Pick me up right on Warren Ave.”

I grabbed my lunch and car keys and headed out the door. I stopped short when I looked up and realized Jenn’s car was behind mine in the driveway and I headed back into the house to grab her keys. No sense moving two cars, I’ll just take hers today since she won’t be needing it.

But when I got back into the house, I couldn’t find her keys. So I quickly called Jenn back.

“Where are your keys?”

“They’re on the….Oh shit, they’re in my bag. Is my car in the driveway behind yours?”

“Yes.”

At this point, the panic really started to set in for Jenn.

“What am I going to do?”, she desperately asked.

Trying to calm the situation, I just said, “You’re going to walk back home and I’ll drive you to work.” Not a huge deal if she’s a few minutes late for work.

“I can’t, Greg! There’s an 8:00 meeting that I can’t be late for!”

Oh, that’s right. That was why she was so panicked. There was an 8:00 meeting and while no one wants to be a few minutes late for work during the first week at a new job, you definitely don’t want to be late for work the first week of your new job when there is an important meeting at 8:00 am, and you’re the notetaker.

Panic had reached a high level. I love my wife dearly and hearing her in distress was uncomfortable, especially since this was the closest thing I’d ever experienced to having her call me for help, lost in the woods in danger.

As soon as she said there was a meeting she couldn’t be late for and realized that I could not take a vehicle to come pick her up, I could hear in her voice that complete desperation had set in. She was starting to run through the woods...in flip flops.

“Oh my gosh, Greg. I’m...I’m going to be late. I’m seeing...there’s a brook...I have to..have to run, there’s a brook...a brook...I’m on the wrong side….”

Literally felt like I was on the phone with someone who was getting chased by axe murderer.

A brook? What brook? Run! Run to the light! Yell for help! Don’t go in the cabin!

All I could picture was Jenn running through the woods, getting whipped in the face with branches, trying to escape the terror chasing her. Don’t let him catch you!

But my out loud thought was, “I can’t get to work now!”

“You’re going to have to ride your bike! We should have thought of this before!”, she exclaimed.

All I could think was, “We”? “We” should have thought of this? How did this become a “We” thing? How about you don’t pick the day you have an 8:00 am meeting as the day you’re going to try walking to work?

And with that, she hung up the phone and was on to a full-fledged run, as fast as she could go, in flip-flops, carrying her bag and lunch, out of the woods, over to Warren Ave and up Thacher St to Town Hall.

I stood in the living room and contemplated my options. I could change out of my work clothes, pack my bicycle commuting backpack and ride to work. And with that option, at least the heatwave had broken and it was much cooler out, about 70 degrees, which is the threshold I’ve decided is the warmest it can be before I have to shower when I get to work after a bike ride. 

The second option was to change out of my work clothes, ride to the Town Hall to get the keys, ride back home, change back into work clothes, and then drive to work. That seemed like more back and forth than I wanted to get into and by the time I rode there and back and changed, I’d be more than halfway to work if I’d just decided to ride my bike all the way.

So that’s what I went with. Riding to work.

I normally don’t go jogging in the morning on the days that I’m going to ride my bike. Those are my two forms of exercise in the morning. I either get up and jog 2.75 miles in the morning and drive to work or I sleep a little later and skip the jog, opting for the 11 mile round trip bike ride.

Of course, when I woke up this morning at 5:20 and completed my 2.75 mile jog, I wasn’t expecting to add a 5.5 mile bike ride soon after. It occurred to me as I was locking up my bike on the rack outside the office that I’d already completed two-thirds of a Triathlon before most people had had their first cup of coffee of the day. I thought about swimming home in the Neponset River for the afternoon commute to complete the trifecta. Why the hell not? Pretty sure the tide would have been in my favor.

So while it turned out to be a much more chaotic morning than what I’d normally like leading into Labor Day weekend, I’m happy to say that Jenn managed to make it to work in the nick of time. She was, of course, drenched in sweat but imagine if she hadn’t changed out of that winter sweater? (jk). 

But seriously, I think she still needs to do a test run before she walks to work again.