I Like to Ride My Bicycle

I like to ride my bike. I love it, love it, love it!! It feels great to build up fatigue in your quads, and then 15 minutes later notice that you're going stronger and faster than ever. The wind is whipping in and around your ear-canal so fast that it sounds like you're in a wind tunnel. You have to turn your ipod up to max, because you're moving so fast that the wind is drowning out the music.

I love to just get up at 7am when the weather is still crisp and ride for 20 miles, and then come home, shower, and still have the WHOLE day ahead of you. some folks still aren't even out of bed yet.

I love it, but I don't get to do it as often as I would like. I took about two months off from exercise. Not planned, not on purpose, fatigue just whooped my ass anytime I even considered anything requiring physical exertion.

"A run? Howbout you run your ass downstairs and handle that laundry that's waiting to be washed? Howbout you do that?"

"Daymn fatigue. It's like that?"

So, two months of nothing, maybe longer. I want to say that I could see my muscle-tone liquefy before my eyes. Mostly though, I think it gelatinized. (I wonder if my ass got bigger?!?!?!?)

So, the other day I got up with a little spring in my step and drove up to the bike trail. Okay, this could go in a couple of different directions, let's see how I want to play it.

Okay, remember the last post about going to the gym at work and running like the wind for the last half mile? Well, I hurt myself. A pull or a strain, or a something that hurts, in the arch of my foot. I've been walking around like fucking Quasimodo for a week, because I hurt my foot. So, fiending for exercise, but knowing that it was a bad idea to run: Eureeka! A bike ride!! (at 7am-ish, which means 10:30.)

So, I drive out, ride 15 miles, and I feel guh-reat!! I'm riding like the fucking wind! And, at about 7 miles I realize that my foot doesn't hurt. What does that mean? You got it! Let's cut this ride short and bring it back in for a quick 1-miler!!

Let me tell you something for those of you who don't actually know me: To be so fucking smart, I can be so fucking dumb! Like, "where you born premature or something?" dumb! So, me and my fully developed faculties sped back to my car, threw the bike in the back, grabbed a pair of shoes and took of for a 1-mile run!

I felt pretty good, for about half a mile. I guess when you've got adrenaline powering your decision-making, it takes a while for body to bypass and reroute messages to your brain. I ran 1/2 mile out. I hobble-walked 1/2 mile back. That was about 3 weeks ago. I'm still wearing the special shoes I had to buy so that my feet wouldn't hurt. And to be clear, they don't match everything. -sigh-

So, these many weeks out, I have some shout outs to other folks from the trail that day.


Lady on the bike with your husband, riding old beaters, and using crappy equipment who clearly are not bike enthusiasts, but passed me while I thought I was riding like the wind: Fuck you!!


Group of riders with your matching outfits: Uhm- you're not Lance Armstrong! You don't even work for the post office. Why are you all wearing matching USPS jerseys and shorts??? You look fucking ridiculous!! (I kinda want one too.)

[Italics indicate my adolescent sarcastic tone that I perfected by 8th grade.]

Lady running in the yellow Nike Frees: Yeah you, bitch! You!! What the fuck is your problem?!? Honestly, when you see someone on a bike trying to pass you, what's with the speeding up and keeping up with them? Inappropriate!!!