On Saturday, with torch in hand, I rummaged through the mounds of dead leaves until I found the 15-speed bike my parents had given me for my birthday. I had ridden it every day for the first month, then I went to Thailand, then winter arrived then - the point is that I had a renewed energy and the determination to change my lifestyle and become FIT again! I ambled to the crack at the back of my cave and, with some difficulty, scouted out my biking uniform:
- non-hip biking helmet- to allow me the illusion of personal safety despite the two-dozen gypsy cabs that regularly prowl my steet
- padded biking gloves- to save my palms from personal irritation and look cool in that cut-off, punky-biking-gloves kinda way
- 7-year-old running shoes- to let my feet know that I once again intend on losing 20 pounds and getting those rock-hard abs (they have been known to snicker)
- neon yellow windbreaker- so idiot drivers from 3 blocks away can get a bead on me from long-distanc
- water bottle- to provide water in case I get stuck in the desert with a flat tire during my usual, 30-minute ride along the river
- accessory bag- to hold hex wrenches (for repairs), a Metro card (when the repairs don't work) and a quarter (when I discover my Metrocard has expired and I have to call my girlfriend)
With this euphoric inspiration to Do Something, I set out for my first workout. I stepped into the early-morning air, secured my helmet, then stepped on the bike. The front tire was flat... and the tiny, new tire valve didn't fit my bike pump. Stupid new-fangled bikes.
Well, Spring has sprung. It's only a matter of time...
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