I did a 31.5 mile ride on Sunday because Jessi said I could. My comfort zone is typically in around the 15 mile ride. It takes me about an hour and I can come home, take a shower, and get on with my day feeling good.

However, I’ve been trying to push myself a bit lately and get that mileage up. My goal is to get that Century ride under my belt and I’m not going to make that happen with 15 mile rides.

So, Jessi kept bugging me and telling me that I could do 30 miles, no problem, so last weekend I filled up both water bottles and was on my way.

It was a gorgeous day and I really had a great ride, but I couldn’t enjoy it as much as I would have liked because I realized that I needed to pee about 5 miles in. I kept riding – and kept drinking because it was hot and I needed to stay hydrated – and the feeling just kept getting worse. There was no where to stop and find a washroom, I was out in the middle of nowhere but I wasn’t far enough away from civilization to guarantee privacy, if you know what I mean.

In this situation, what is a girl to do? Now this is really one of those points in life where one’s personality type comes shining through. There are those who would risk bladder eruption looking for a gas station or restaurant with a washroom that they could use. Then there are those who wouldn’t think twice about pulling over, hopping off, and squatting down.

I fall somewhere in the middle, so while I searched and searched for a washroom the trees on the sides of the road became more and more inviting. And the worst part was that my great ride was overshadowed by the call of nature. I didn’t really get to enjoy the ride or the accomplishment because I was so distracted for most of it.

Eventually I did find a little diner where I was able to address the situation, but next time I’m bringing along toilet paper, just in case.