Get Me Out of This Gear!

3.26.2010 | Motivation

I went for a bike ride yesterday. It was the first time in about 12 years that I’ve been on a bike. I used to really enjoy biking, and had a nice Rocky Mountain Cardiac that I rode around on. But then… well, I got sick. I blamed my biking. Irrational, I know, but when one is sick rationality falls to the wayside. So, I blamed my bike for making me sick, and I stopped riding, and that was that.

Late last year I bought a bike off a very dear friend of mine in the hopes that I would be able to ride it and get my cardio up for climbing Mt. Kilimanjaro. It has been sitting next to my treadmill, taunting me for months. “I can’t!” I say to Evil Bike, “You’ll make me sick again!” But Evil Bike is having none of it. Yesterday, Evil Bike finally won me over…

Now, the bike I am used to riding has big, fat tires that allow me to roll over pretty much anything that comes across my path; rocks, roots, branches, protesting teabaggers… But Evil Bike is a road bike, not a mountain bike, and as such it has these teeny tiny little tires that are just a bit wider than heavy gauge dental floss. Thus, each time I roll over anything (pebbles, cracks in the road, paint chips, dust particles…), my brain screams “THIS IS IT! YOU’RE GOING OVER!” And so, my lovely ride through town (note to self: do NOT ride when farmers are spreading manure on the fields!), was punctuated with brief, heart-stopping moments of “THIS IS IT! YOU’RE GOING OVER!”

I am grateful for living in Ladner. Why? No hills. It is the ideal place for the ‘I’m Just Not That Into It’ bike rider. I rode along the farm roads and memories of past bike rides came flickering back… the wind against my cheeks, the rain pouring down the visor of my helmet, THIS IS IT! YOU’RE GOING OVER!… nope. false alarm… that burning/aching feeling in my butt cheeks as I try to find the perfect balance on my seat -kind of like balancing a marble on a toothpick- I remember ‘The Zone’, and I’m hoping that I’ll hit it soon. Then I know I can go on forever! But for now, I’m pretty sure I’m going to die. C’mon Zone… where are you!?

Ahhhh! There it is! And off I go! Me and DJ Doboy carefree, riding in the rain, loving the moment, wishing to god I weren’t so terribly petrified of taking my hands off the handlebars so I could change out of this horrendously difficult gear I’m in… yep, I’m happy, happy, happy.

After riding for a couple of hours (read: 20 minutes), I begin to tire and want to head home. I know this is a bad idea, as I need to get some cardio done today, and if I turn back now, it will become a bad habit where I ride for a scant couple of hours (again, read: 20 minutes), the go home and eat popcorn. But I’m tired. But I should keep going! Awww, man, I’m tiiiiiired! My legs hurt! Must… keep… going… willpower… fading… must… find… inspiration…

I decided to ride past the Hospice. That’s what I’m doing this for. I can’t forget that.

And so I turn, and I ride, and I remember. Want to guess what I did when I rode past? One guess. C’mon…. you know this one! It’s easy! Thaaaaaaat’s right – I cried. Just a little though! I carried on and rode for a little while longer before making the decision to head home. It was time, and I was happy with what I had done, especially considering I hadn’t done anything like it in over a decade.

I ride past my friends’ homes (Hi Tony!), and slow down to see if anyone is out in their yards (Hi Laura! Hi Better Still Day Spa!), but alas no one is about (Hi Bin! Hi Amelia!), and I weave my way among the familiar streets of my home town (Hi Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuds!), until I’m happily back (Hey Lynda! Hi Brian and Valerie!), and ready for a well-deserved rest.

I don’t think Evil Bike is as evil as I think she is. I had fun! In fact, DJ Doboy and I are actually looking forward to hanging out with her again. Life is good.

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