Shame and Blame
I could blame it on a lot of things.
Things like my iPod armband breaking. Or the sky deciding to rain on and off all day. Or my sit bones poking through the jiggly flesh of my butt. Or the cheapness of my bicycle. Or the disappearance of my helmet.
But really I cannot blame any of those things for the duration of my bicycle rides so far this week.
Because those things do not explain my inability to push my bicycle up the stairs after the rides. Nor do they explain the wobbliness of my legs.
What does explain it all is that my body is out of practice with this thing called Moving.
My body looks at me, does a horribly annoying eye roll, and asks, "What is this Moving thing of which you speak? And why doth thou expect me to partake in it?"
And then my legs fall off and my arms revolt and my lungs refuse to draw any more oxygen, leaving me in a pile of twitching goo as skinnier and more well-practiced bodies fly by me.
I can remember enjoying this Moving thing last summer.
That's what I need to focus on.
This is fun.
This is fun.
This will be fun.
2006
2 Love Notes
I like to ride the bike at ludicrous speed to fetch a new pack of smokes. I don't stop pouring on the power until I get back to the house ( all about a 10 minute ordeal ). I don't want a smoke right away 'cause my lungs hurt from the clean air, and my legs and arms quiver with rejective convulsions for about 10 minutes. Long time no ride. Nothing like B put me through.
Ha! Riding with B is bad for my health and marriage because after only a short while I can no longer breathe without pain and he asks, "Another few miles would be nice, dontcha think?" At which point I would punch him in the face were I able to lift my arms.
Leave a comment