I need a sleep numer bike seat.

So if you are friends with me on Facebook, then you know the basic part of this first story. Lets rehash and add some details. The big fourth grade bike ride is fast approaching. I was unable to go last year, but promised Makiah that this year, I would go with him. Now I use to be a big bike rider. Not fat, that is the kind of big rider I am now, but back in the day, I rode all of the the time. So as the 20 mile ride approaches, I decided that we needed to get some miles under our belts, or more to the point, under my ass. You see, the miles on the bike are little concern for my legs, but a huge concern for my ass. We decided to take the whole family to a local lake and ride around. Its a 3.2 mile trail around the lake, a great ride with lots of animals to see and places to stop and hike. At one such place, we usually stop and have a drink of water. The boys wanted to hike up a trail that runs away from the lake, so we let them head out. After a few minutes, I couldn't see them anymore, so I started to whistle for them. My kids know, you hear dad's whistle, its time to come home. After I whistled, and then didn't see them, I whistled again. And again. And again. After realizing that this was not working, I headed down the trail to find them. This trail runs for several miles along a river and the kids LOVE to play along this river. After hiking about a quarter of a mile and still not seeing them, and they weren't responding to my whistles, I started to get a little concerned. I decided that I need to get my bike, a quarter of a mile back, and go looking for them. I sprinted, okay, sprinted is a stretch, but I ran back sort of quickly, to where my bike was. I told Marcy to stay there in case they circled back. I got my cell phone and headed out down the trail in search of three soon to be in trouble boys. Now this trail is about 4 inches wide and goes through the woods in a most dangerous way. That "way", is down gulleys, over fallen trees, under leaning trees and along the river. At one point, the trail runs right up to a 20 foot drop off, right to the river. I was a bit concerned at this point, and searched the river to be sure we didn't have three swimmers. Feeling confident that they hadn't taken the plunge, I continued down the trail. Now there are forks in the trail, and I'm not 100% sure I'm on the right trail. My thought was to continue on the "biggest" trail, which means the 4 inch wide trail and not the 3 inch wide trails that broke off every so often. Now I'm flying down this trail as fast as I can, ducking under leaning tress that I pray won't scrape my back as I slide under. I go from full speed to a complete stop so I can lift my bike over the fallen trees. As you can imagine, I'm getting a little worried that my boys might be a bit more lost than I had originally thought. As I squeeze between two trees, the handle bars of my bike hit one of the trees and toss me into the tree. I wasn't hurt too bad, but my $75 bike from Target was not built for such rude treatment. As I gather myself so I can continue my search, I realize that my handle bars are no longer in their helpful position, and have now been relocated to my knees. This turn of events is not welcome, when you are trying to race through the woods. I prop them up as best I can and head off. In the distance, I see movement. Is it another deer, like the one I whizzed past a half mile back? No, it is three soon to be grounded boys, still running down the trail. At this point, we are a good mile and a half to two miles from the trail head, and I'm pissed, and completely out of breath. Now I have to whistle. My first attempt is weak and not nearly loud enough for them to hear me. In my head, I think, "You better whistle loud, or you are going to have to continue this death race down this trail." I let out a whopper, and they hear me. They start heading back towards me, so I take this time to try and catch my breath. After all, it will be really hard to yell at them if I'm passed out on the ground. They make it to me, show me the toad they caught, and seem totally oblivious to the fact that they are nearly in another state, with their mother extremely worried a few miles back. I call her, let her know I found them, but that all three might not make it back. They described the fun they had on their little trip, and I couldn't even be mad. I was so happy I found them without having to call in a search party, that my only question to them was, "Do you know how far down this trail you are?" They did not. Now I have to push my busted bike back to the main trail and ride back to the truck with my handle bars resting on my knees. I can't describe the relief I felt when I finally got them back into my sight. The boys actually were upset that I made them turn around, and ended their "adventure." Sue me.