"So who's fault is it when you roll over a dog's legs and break them?" I didn't really break the dog's leg(s), at least I don't think I did. Rick said, "the owner -- the dog wasn't tied. He even had a shock collar on, but obviously wasn't being used. It's not your fault...it's like a dog running out in front of car..the car isn't at fault." I just started my 6 minute interval (BTW, a new post is coming on my new training tactics which I LOVE and feel like a million bucks again!), and wasn't paying much attention to anything but getting the HR up. All of a sudden, I look up, and this dog is running straight at me and next thing I know, he's in front of my front tire and I'm going over his legs. I rolled on the ground, said "Jesus Christ!!" loud enough for the owner to hear me, gave them a really ugly, mean glare, acted like maybe I hurt myself (but I didn't) and immediately got back on my bike and continued the interval -- noticing the dog was holding his leg up as I rode off. I used to LOVE dogs, but since I've been riding bike and discovered it takes a speed of 37 mph to outrun a pit bull, I have much less compassion for a barking dog chasing my bike. So my inconsiderate side didn't feel bad about the dog. Geez. Tie your dogs, please!
Later in the ride, we went by Fisher's Greenhouse. (This isn't really training related, but its a cute story about riding a bike by an old friend's house). Fisher's dad, Willie, had a greenhouse in Gratz when we first moved into our house many years ago. I swear I kept him in business for 2 years straight. I bought every herb from him he got in -- in multiple quantities. I was there so much I grew to know some of his kids -- Miriam and Allen, and of course his dog Rosie would follow me around. Miriam's least favorite job in the Greenhouse was separating sweet potatoe plants. Willie was my buddy. He loved to talk plants and herbs and so did I. That year (I think it was 1994), I was 2nd place in the Patriot News "How Does Your Garden Grow" Contest and I mentioned Fisher's Greenhouse in the Article and he claimed that brought him a lot of business (he was grateful). We shared plants (I grew herbs at the time he didn't have -- Sweet Annie was a huge hit!), and I helped him out when times got tough for him when he had his heart attack and his wife had brain surgery. He shut down the greenhouse, and moved down the valley. We'd see Willie every now and then, but not much. Now, he's about 3 miles from me (again!), working with his son who now has a greenhouse. Willie was out watering his grass and I just had to stop and say hi. A half hour later, we left with big smiles on our faces as we laughed at how Willie was trying to sell us his miracle cure -- GoJi Juice. He swears it cured his arthritic thumbs, and his wife is feeling much, much better (she was partially paralyzed and in a wheel chair, and is now walking around and doing quite well). Rick and I (well, more me) get a kick out of Willie. He's about as friendly as they come. Willie is Amish. It felt sorta awkward standing in an Amish family's kitchen in skin-tight spandex drinking GoJi juice. Rick said did I think Willie, his wife and young grandson thought we were in our underwear. Ha! Willie's an elder, and his wife Anna is as sweet and quiet as can be. I'm proud to have Willie as my friend. He said I should stop again when I ride bike by his place -- and I think I will!