If you non-commenters would so indulge me, please delurk and tell me a few things:
Who are you?
Do you have a blog?
Why do you read Red Stapler?
Thank you! Even if you don't comment, thanks for reading.
14 January 2010
Show yourselves!
If you non-commenters would so indulge me, please delurk and tell me a few things:
Who are you?
Do you have a blog?
Why do you read Red Stapler?
Thank you! Even if you don't comment, thanks for reading.
13 January 2010
Two wheeling
Where have I been?
As Laura used to say "Peddling my ass around town."
By which she meant "Riding a bike." Oh, that Laura - what a prankster.
One of my new year's resolutions was to start riding my bike more. It's about time: I bought it two years ago - from an 80-year-old guy who was getting a new, different bike - and it has been sitting in the shed gathering dust ever since.
I was inspired to start riding by two women: Madness Rivera, who loves her bike so much she had it tattooed on her body, and, even though she is a body-dysmorphic daughter of Satan who needs to be pelted with flaming cheese blocks, Tall & Lucky Kristin, who I guess has some good ideas about fitness and hard work and blah blah blah.
Last weekend I took The Sofa Bike to The Bike Depot and they gave it a tune-up, installed my cool bell and adjusted the seat for me.
I rode Sunday and yesterday and today. Here are my rules: I can go as fast or slow as I want. I can stop whenever I want. But I have to go a little farther each day. Just a little.
I've been having fun, even getting *gasp* sweaty. THAT never happens. I haven't gone very far or very fast - Lance Armstrong probably does more mileage before he gets out of bed than I do on a ride, but Lance Armstrong isn't a big fat computer addict with a love of almond croissants, either.
The other day I got laughed at - LAUGHED AT - by a regular cyclist (one with a titanium bike and a Wonder bread colored bike jersey) who passed me on The Sofa Bike and said "Ha. That'll work."
Yes, indeed, Sonny. It will work for me.
As Laura used to say "Peddling my ass around town."
By which she meant "Riding a bike." Oh, that Laura - what a prankster.
One of my new year's resolutions was to start riding my bike more. It's about time: I bought it two years ago - from an 80-year-old guy who was getting a new, different bike - and it has been sitting in the shed gathering dust ever since.
I was inspired to start riding by two women: Madness Rivera, who loves her bike so much she had it tattooed on her body, and, even though she is a body-dysmorphic daughter of Satan who needs to be pelted with flaming cheese blocks, Tall & Lucky Kristin, who I guess has some good ideas about fitness and hard work and blah blah blah.
Last weekend I took The Sofa Bike to The Bike Depot and they gave it a tune-up, installed my cool bell and adjusted the seat for me.
I rode Sunday and yesterday and today. Here are my rules: I can go as fast or slow as I want. I can stop whenever I want. But I have to go a little farther each day. Just a little.
I've been having fun, even getting *gasp* sweaty. THAT never happens. I haven't gone very far or very fast - Lance Armstrong probably does more mileage before he gets out of bed than I do on a ride, but Lance Armstrong isn't a big fat computer addict with a love of almond croissants, either.
The other day I got laughed at - LAUGHED AT - by a regular cyclist (one with a titanium bike and a Wonder bread colored bike jersey) who passed me on The Sofa Bike and said "Ha. That'll work."
Yes, indeed, Sonny. It will work for me.
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