Since returning from my trip, I've been trying to get back in the swing of things. So far am just swinging every which way. I've done a good bit of writing - would like to be doing MORE, but with my daughter out of school for the summer and us only having one computer I don't get the time I want or need. I had an idea for a novel this morning and could go non-stop bangers on it, till my daughter gets home tomorrow, but have several other projects I want to finish as well. Hmmm, which way to turn? One things for certain. I have no grace. I don't mean the feelings kind, I'm talking physically. It's amazing how uncoordinated I've become without even knowing it. When I was a youngster, I was hell on wheels with my bicycle. I had a wimpy girlie bike (wanted a dirt bike) and rode that thing in to the ground. Dirt hill jumping, ditch jumping , rock climbing, you name it, everything a girlie bike shouldn't be doing - I was doing. I kept getting flat tires, stickers and bent frames. Eventually my dad quit fixing it.
While I was in Utah a neighbor fixed the bike we've had for years but never ridden, because, well, it needed repairs. I sat on it once. Seat hurt my hiney, it has one of those super slim seats, just a strip that goes up your crack - and it was hard. My daughter's been everywhere on it. I haven't ridden a bike in over 28 years.
I took it out for the first time on Wednesday. Before getting on it I had a brief moment of foreboding. “Silly me,” I thought to myself, “I know how to ride a bike.” (I'm sooo glad my daughter didn't see this!) Should've known I was way off my game when I nearly dumped it trying to take the first corner. I recovered my near fall, but not gracefully. At that point I had enough sense to realize I needed more room than the sidewalk allowed (I know you're not supposed to ride on the sidewalk, but there aren't always bike lanes here), so I took it to the road. I was waggling down the road, staying as far right as I dared - hitting every GD bump in the road by the way - when I noticed a truck coming straight at me. He wasn't close enough for me to be frightened or worried but I figured it would be wise to get out of the way anyway. I coasted toward the sidewalk. I turned into the first drive I came to, but for some reason, the bike didn’t move the direction I wanted it to go. The bike kept right on going - BLAMO! Right into a bush!!! I'm not talking a light breezy brush by - I mean I plowed that sucker!! Good thing for me I wasn't wearing shorts and good thing for me no one was home. Not so good for me - the jolt of the impact raised me off that skinny ass little strip of a seat then slammed me back down with a forward lurch. Guess what I landed on. Think about it real hard. Yup, right on my pooty poo! Oh, it hurt but this wasn't the time to allow pain, I needed to get the heck out of there before anyone saw me! Trying to wriggle free of the bush I heard someone yelling at me, "HEY!!! WHAT THE HELL?! YA FRIGGIN MANIAC!!" I quickly glanced around the neighborhood. I didn’t see a single person. Then I heard the cries again - the bush was yelling at me! "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I said as I yanked and twisted the bike, that hard skinny little seat banging against my "sits bone" with every jerk. "WHY DON’T YOU TRY GETTING OFF THE DAMN THING YA IDIOT!" Oh right. That might be easier. So I got off, stepping on branches as I did, "LOOK OUT!!! GEEZUS LADY!! ARE YOU NUTS? WATCH OUT!"
"I'm sorry! I'm soooooo sorry little bush!"
"WHO YOU CALLING LITTLE? I'M AS BIG AS A BARN, HOW COULD YOU MISS ME??!!!!"
"Huh? Big as a barn?" I don't think so, "but I really am sorry!" By now I had myself and the bike free of its hold. I hop, hop, hopped back on, "This is my first time back on a bike in decades, I’m sorry!"
"YA SHOULDN'T BE ON ONE NOW!"
"That's harsh."
"HARSH?! HARSH?!!" The bush was waving its branches at me as I pulled away, "YOU AINT HEARD HARSH YET YA FRIGGIN PSYCHO!" Moving faster now, I could still hear it yelling, its voice diminishing with the distance, "YOU'RE A MENACE! YOU GOT NO BUSINESS ON A BIKE!!"
"Bye!" I called back over my shoulder. His voice finally trailing off, "YA FRIGGIN loooser! . . . . . . . . ."
In the end the only thing damaged was my ego, my ass and my pooty poo. But here's the problem now. It is faster to get around on a bike, so I've braved it a few more times. There's no forgiving the angle, position, or hardness of the seat. It's bruising me. I've tried side cheek sitting - can't pedal that way. I've tried standing up to pedal, can't handle it very far, my legs are too weak. So now I'm just bruised. Bruised and callused - and thinking about taping a pillow to the seat. My daughter just leveled deadly silent glares at me when I suggested this. Enough said.
While I was in Utah a neighbor fixed the bike we've had for years but never ridden, because, well, it needed repairs. I sat on it once. Seat hurt my hiney, it has one of those super slim seats, just a strip that goes up your crack - and it was hard. My daughter's been everywhere on it. I haven't ridden a bike in over 28 years.
I took it out for the first time on Wednesday. Before getting on it I had a brief moment of foreboding. “Silly me,” I thought to myself, “I know how to ride a bike.” (I'm sooo glad my daughter didn't see this!) Should've known I was way off my game when I nearly dumped it trying to take the first corner. I recovered my near fall, but not gracefully. At that point I had enough sense to realize I needed more room than the sidewalk allowed (I know you're not supposed to ride on the sidewalk, but there aren't always bike lanes here), so I took it to the road. I was waggling down the road, staying as far right as I dared - hitting every GD bump in the road by the way - when I noticed a truck coming straight at me. He wasn't close enough for me to be frightened or worried but I figured it would be wise to get out of the way anyway. I coasted toward the sidewalk. I turned into the first drive I came to, but for some reason, the bike didn’t move the direction I wanted it to go. The bike kept right on going - BLAMO! Right into a bush!!! I'm not talking a light breezy brush by - I mean I plowed that sucker!! Good thing for me I wasn't wearing shorts and good thing for me no one was home. Not so good for me - the jolt of the impact raised me off that skinny ass little strip of a seat then slammed me back down with a forward lurch. Guess what I landed on. Think about it real hard. Yup, right on my pooty poo! Oh, it hurt but this wasn't the time to allow pain, I needed to get the heck out of there before anyone saw me! Trying to wriggle free of the bush I heard someone yelling at me, "HEY!!! WHAT THE HELL?! YA FRIGGIN MANIAC!!" I quickly glanced around the neighborhood. I didn’t see a single person. Then I heard the cries again - the bush was yelling at me! "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" I said as I yanked and twisted the bike, that hard skinny little seat banging against my "sits bone" with every jerk. "WHY DON’T YOU TRY GETTING OFF THE DAMN THING YA IDIOT!" Oh right. That might be easier. So I got off, stepping on branches as I did, "LOOK OUT!!! GEEZUS LADY!! ARE YOU NUTS? WATCH OUT!"
"I'm sorry! I'm soooooo sorry little bush!"
"WHO YOU CALLING LITTLE? I'M AS BIG AS A BARN, HOW COULD YOU MISS ME??!!!!"
"Huh? Big as a barn?" I don't think so, "but I really am sorry!" By now I had myself and the bike free of its hold. I hop, hop, hopped back on, "This is my first time back on a bike in decades, I’m sorry!"
"YA SHOULDN'T BE ON ONE NOW!"
"That's harsh."
"HARSH?! HARSH?!!" The bush was waving its branches at me as I pulled away, "YOU AINT HEARD HARSH YET YA FRIGGIN PSYCHO!" Moving faster now, I could still hear it yelling, its voice diminishing with the distance, "YOU'RE A MENACE! YOU GOT NO BUSINESS ON A BIKE!!"
"Bye!" I called back over my shoulder. His voice finally trailing off, "YA FRIGGIN loooser! . . . . . . . . ."
In the end the only thing damaged was my ego, my ass and my pooty poo. But here's the problem now. It is faster to get around on a bike, so I've braved it a few more times. There's no forgiving the angle, position, or hardness of the seat. It's bruising me. I've tried side cheek sitting - can't pedal that way. I've tried standing up to pedal, can't handle it very far, my legs are too weak. So now I'm just bruised. Bruised and callused - and thinking about taping a pillow to the seat. My daughter just leveled deadly silent glares at me when I suggested this. Enough said.