Mostly because it is a bike.
I managed to get my ass up on the saddle for the first time in nearly a month, and don’t worry I have plenty of excuses for that; starting with the holidays, ending with the weather, with a whole bunch of B.S. in between them. But I woke up yesterday morning and while I was eating a rather too large breakfast that I took great enjoyment in1 I resolved that it was high time I start in on the cranks again. Quite frankly my attitude has been utter shite lately and it is mostly due to lack of exercise and recreation, two things that my bicycle was built for.
The devil car had other ideas. Oh no, wait, my wife needed me to drop her and my daughter off at the all-inclusive-super-mega-big box store so that she could do some shopping and to possibly get the girl’s hair cut; because despite her protests it is getting a bit shaggy in the front, and she can’t see things right in front of her face2. Which I agreed to because, well it’s what proper and responsible husbands do. Getting a six-year-old ready for a potential hair appointment tends to always take longer than expected, and what with driving there and getting myself back to the house nearly made me miss my time window for a comfortable riding experience.
Alright, getting on the bike was fine once I tracked down where my lock and cable ended up, and my helmet, and that pack of spare batteries for my lights; after all I wasn’t going to be riding home until late at night. About half way down the driveway, right before I mounted up, I remembered to check my tires.Sure enough, the front one was low and I had to stop and put air in it. On the plus side my frame pump was still where it was supposed to be, but it still took a while to get enough air in. After spending a moment fiddling with my phone to get it to track my ride I was off.
On the road I decided I wasn’t going to push myself to hard since it had been a while, this was a good idea. Soon I could feel the grinding of my knee, the one I fractured a few years ago, letting me know just how long it has been since it had a good work out. This caused me to change my route in favor of a slightly shorter one to lessen the impact on my aging and out of shape body. After about a mile and a half more I reached down between my legs and realized I forgot to fill my canteen. The change in routes cut off any option to stop for a bottle so I was just going to have to be parched until I got to the restaurant.
Once at work I checked my time and distance. A measly four miles but not that much slower than my normal pace. Rooting through my bag I realized that I had forgotten to transfer my Ibuprofen from my panniers, one of which had broken clips so I didn’t use them, to my shoulder bag. I sighed and went inside to find that the first aid kit we keep in the kitchen was woefully devoid of any analgesics. I poured myself a tall glass of water and set about my tasks.
I had forgotten how to ride a bike.
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