Thursday, May 29, 2014

Piston like

Now that I have completed a second week of walk/bike commuting I am so fit that I no longer feel nauseous for large sections of the time I am biking. Just today I almost passed an octogenarian on his octogenarian ten speed, but was foiled by a small hill that allowed him to dart far ahead of me as I started to roll backwards. Nevertheless it was an encouraging experience and my progress seems to hold forth the promise of great things to come. My understanding is that lots of healthy exercise is going to release powerful happy endorphins, and that I might soon be bubbling in joy. Prepare yourself for weeks of blog posts where all I say is "Hey, isn't everything just perfect?" Don't worry though, I'll change the word order every day and occasionally extrapolate. Anyway, I haven't gotten to this stage yet. Mostly what I feel is sore, but it's a pleasant, athlete's soreness. It's a soreness that makes me feel sort of tough and swaggery, as if my thighs are saying "Yeah, I walked and biked four miles today. We are monster thighs, pistons of power, unstoppable." Of course my thighs conveniently don't mention how when I got off my bike there was an interesting period where I was unable to walk. My thighs were too weak from the strain of pedaling fast enough to prevent joggers from passing me. And, sure, I can get all self deprecating, but my thighs will tell you the important part, that none of those joggers, in the end, were fast enough to catch me.

But really I don't mean to make my thighs sound like huge braggarts. As befits tough body parts they are mostly the strong silent type. I try to take my lead from them if I can and let my new burgeoning fitness be like a secret veiled power I hold underneath everything I do. Patrons come and ask me "Hey, can I get a library card?"

I say "Yes." but underneath it I am silently thinking "I biked three miles today. Three miles! So think about that Mr. Library Card Wanter!"

I'm just saying, I bike three miles a day. I am ready for anything

Though, naturally, lots of resting is preferred.


  1. I biked to work twice. The first time, I fell on the way home and hurt my shoulder. Not badly, but enough. The second time, a tire exploded just as I went in the driveway at the library, and a coworker had to give me a ride home. Now I drive to work and walk or bus just about everywhere else. The bike hangs in the garage.

    1. Yes, sounds like the Universe was talking. I never know though what the hell it's saying.


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