You know that voice in your head that tells you that you can't physically do something. The voice that says, "Come on. If you can't run a mile, then a half marathon is probably a bad idea."? Yea, I don't have that voice. I did at some point but some where along the lines, it disappeared into the abyss. Much like my boobs.
Black Friday last year, I bought myself a bicycle. I had not ridden since I was 19 years old but I was pretty sure that I could and would soon. After-all, I am an athlete these days. I brought the cart to my car when I realized that it was probably not going to fit. I should have know then, that this was a bad idea. It took me nearly a half hour but I squeezed that box into my back seat. When I got home, pulled the damn box out if my car tearing the handle of the box. I managed to push the box across the parking lot to the stair case. Stairs, yet another thing that I had not quite thought out. There is no particular "method" that I used to get it up the steps. I remember that there was some pushing, pulling, flipping and sliding. Once I got the bike to the top and in the house, I collapsed onto the couch. I was on a roll-ish. Some how, I got it into my head that at 2.a.m., I should give putting it together a shot. Let's just sum that end result up with, "HOT MESS". Thank you Kelly for helping me right all of my wrongs.
On Sunday, about 8 months later, I thought that is was a beautiful day to finally get on the bike and take a nice evening ride. Hoping for the best, I packed my running belt. (I am refusing to call that a fanny pack.). I packed a bottle of water, cash in case I was out past dinner, my phone for my gps and camera and an energy drink mix. I was all set up for a nice long ride. I got my bike down to the side walk, got on, felt the hard seat on my whoo-ha and before my feet hit the pedals, I was already regretting the purchase. In a bike, the slightest incline seems multiplied by 77. After one circle around my neighborhood, I wanted to go back home. It was purely pride that kept me out after that point. I trecked my way a horrendous 50 yards to the nearest parking lot and spent the next 27 minutes riding in random patterns. There was no way I was spending less then a half our out on that damn bike. I made a decision, I had to follow through. Right before I headed back home, I snapped a photo for proof to my grandchildren that I was once on a bicycle.
Lets add that to the list of things that I tried. We can also put biking on the list of things that I never intend to do again. It is not what it is chalked up to be. It is hard, uncomfortable and obnoxious. That's just the helmet. Oh, don't let me get started on the helmet.
Black Friday last year, I bought myself a bicycle. I had not ridden since I was 19 years old but I was pretty sure that I could and would soon. After-all, I am an athlete these days. I brought the cart to my car when I realized that it was probably not going to fit. I should have know then, that this was a bad idea. It took me nearly a half hour but I squeezed that box into my back seat. When I got home, pulled the damn box out if my car tearing the handle of the box. I managed to push the box across the parking lot to the stair case. Stairs, yet another thing that I had not quite thought out. There is no particular "method" that I used to get it up the steps. I remember that there was some pushing, pulling, flipping and sliding. Once I got the bike to the top and in the house, I collapsed onto the couch. I was on a roll-ish. Some how, I got it into my head that at 2.a.m., I should give putting it together a shot. Let's just sum that end result up with, "HOT MESS". Thank you Kelly for helping me right all of my wrongs.
On Sunday, about 8 months later, I thought that is was a beautiful day to finally get on the bike and take a nice evening ride. Hoping for the best, I packed my running belt. (I am refusing to call that a fanny pack.). I packed a bottle of water, cash in case I was out past dinner, my phone for my gps and camera and an energy drink mix. I was all set up for a nice long ride. I got my bike down to the side walk, got on, felt the hard seat on my whoo-ha and before my feet hit the pedals, I was already regretting the purchase. In a bike, the slightest incline seems multiplied by 77. After one circle around my neighborhood, I wanted to go back home. It was purely pride that kept me out after that point. I trecked my way a horrendous 50 yards to the nearest parking lot and spent the next 27 minutes riding in random patterns. There was no way I was spending less then a half our out on that damn bike. I made a decision, I had to follow through. Right before I headed back home, I snapped a photo for proof to my grandchildren that I was once on a bicycle.
Lets add that to the list of things that I tried. We can also put biking on the list of things that I never intend to do again. It is not what it is chalked up to be. It is hard, uncomfortable and obnoxious. That's just the helmet. Oh, don't let me get started on the helmet.
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| I did it, but I didn't like it! |
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