The sun was shining, the temperature was balmy, but not oppressive. None of my kids were home and my husband and I were headed to a wine tasting. When I had an idea. The tasting was only a few miles away and it was the perfect day to ride our bikes. Never mind that I haven't ridden my bike in years. Why haven't I done that again? This is gonna be fun.
Just like riding a bike.
But first, my husband needed to perform emergency surgery on both of our bikes. Because while we hadn't used them, our kids have. And they left his with a flat and mine with wonky brakes that needed to be tweaked. So after an hour and a half of preparations, we were ready to get on the trail. Life slows down on a bike. You notice how green the grass is. How invigorating the breeze is on your face. It's liberating.
That was the first two minutes. When I was riding downhill on a smooth paved road. And then we hit the dirt trail covered with small stones. Still going downhill. I'm so gonna wipe out. Wait, why didn't I wear a helmet? I always tell my kids to wear one. And I've only been on this seat for about 5 minutes and it's killing my crotch. It's all coming back to me now.
Just like riding a bike.
Now, I remember why I don't like riding a bike. Because the bike rides your crotch. And I'm a girl, with less equipment down there. So, guys with junk....how does that work? Where do you put your balls? How can it possibly be comfortable? And you can tell me about those padded seats and bike shorts, but I can't imagine it completely solves the issue. This is why I don't like bike riding.
Because it's just like riding a bike.
And the worst was yet to come. Because, after the wine tasting, we needed to get back on the bikes and head home. Which was all uphill. Because where I live in the foothills of the Rocky Mountains at nearly 7,000 ft elevation, there is no flat stretch. Not for miles. So, we hop on our bikes and start pedaling.
Life slows down on a bike. Like how is it even possible we aren't even half way there yet? I feel like my heart is going to explode. Then, I notice how green the grass is. And how it's filled with dog crap. What kind of ingrate doesn't pick up their dog's shit? How invigorating the breeze is on my face. While a bug flies up my nose. But it very well could've been my mouth or eye. My ass burns, my thighs burn and so does my crotch.
Nothing makes you feel quite like riding a bike.
Which is why mine will remain parked in the garage.
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