Shackled By Love They say that one can be blinded by love. Perhaps that is true, yet that is hardly an excuse. And even a blind man would have had more common sense than me. I was so obsessed with the idea of trying to look good in Lois's eyes that I ignored everything that was going on around me. Oh, it started out fine. We met each other at work, and although there were some problems initially, we eventually became close friends. But I always felt I had to prove myself to her, that I was being compared against perfection and judged to be lacking. Perhaps it was all in my mind, or perhaps I wanted her to love me for myself, not for any family inheritance or gifts from my parents. In the end it would have all came out the same anyway. I had suggested we spend the afternoon at a park on the weekend. She seemed to like that idea and suggested packing a picnic lunch and biking around the Metro-park. Eager to please her, I immediately agreed to it. But I admitted to her, that while I was in decent shape, my bicycle was not and would require some outfitting. It actually seemed to work out for the better; we went to a bike store during our lunch hour Wednesday, and left my bike to be repaired. We also bought a matching outfit of bike shorts and an appropriately bright T-shirt, a water bottle, U-shaped lock and mini tool kit. Although I was quite capable of doing the repairs myself, I figured that it would seem less pretentious of me to let the store do it. The bike was ready and better than new on Friday. I took it home and did not even bother testing it out, since for that price it should be better than new. I also knew that it would be a waste of my time to log any hours on the bike, since fatigue or strength would not be a factor. While Lois is quite physically fit (one of the things that attracted me to her, I must admit), I would easily be able to match any pace she set. Perhaps that was hubris, but I simply regarded it as a fact that I was stronger than she. If I did not think that way maybe I would not be in the situation I wound up in. Saturday morning came, and all seemed normal. The only hint was the fitful sleep I had the night before. I chalked it up to nerves, and thought that the restive night was responsible for the dull aches and slight headache I had. But I was not to be daunted, and I would not cancel this afternoon's date simply for a case of nerves. However I did think twice when I got out of bed and nearly reeled as the room spun around my unfocused gaze. A wave of nausea passed over me, and for a moment I thought the best solution would be to collapse back into bed. But that was only a passing feeling. I was better, and the spell had passed (although the headache and soreness was still with me). I shaved in my usual manner, got dressed, put my bike on the car, grabbed the picnic basket and headed out. I must admit that food at that time did not seem too appealing. But I started to feel better after I got in the car. By the time I met her at the park, my appetite had returned to me. We had a quick snack at a picnic table, and then hit the bike trail. The first few miles were rather pleasant, and we chatted about various things, current events (though we try not to take our work home with us), the scenery and such. But as the trail wound on, I found myself to be feeling worse. My headache had returned with a vengeance, and my vision was blurry. I had stopped listening to her, since her voiced seemed to be coming from several miles away. Every stroke of the pedals seemed to require twice the effort of the previous one. I had even broken a sweat. A sidelong glance told me my companion seemed to be having no problem whatsoever navigating the trail. My breathing became increasingly labored, and I started to have trouble keeping up with her. Cold shivers and hot flashes paid alternating visits to me. The only thing that kept me from passing out was the aching pain that was increasing in my body. I do not mean muscle fatigue nor do I mean stiff joints, although I was suffering from both of those. I mean a general pain that both sapped my strength and seemed to keep increasing, centralized nowhere, but felt everywhere. I finally pulled off to the side and was barely able to murmur something about having to stop and being in worse shape than I thought. The pallor of my complexion must have been obvious, because immediately she told me to rest and take some water. With an effort I managed to get the kickstand down, and got off my bike. My perceptions were slow, for it took me a few seconds to realize that the reason I was sitting on the ground next to the bike was because my legs did not hold me when I got off of it. I could hardly think, the dull needles that had been jabbing me since we started redoubled their attack on me. Water seemed like a good idea, and fortunately the bottle was at my height, attached to the holder on the bike frame. I weakly reached for it, and but my arm flapped back down to my side as I lost the strength to keep it up. But now I understood. I had ignored everything until it was literally right under my nose. But now I was far too vulnerable to be able to effect a solution on my own. It was all quite simple, spelled out, staring right at me in my face; I had just been too much of a fool to notice it. Kryptonite was more than just the name of my bicycle lock.