No More Training Wheels

It's been a while.

It's got layers of dust that are thicker than the tires. It was probably last used when I was 15 years and 364 days old. Truthfully, I can't remember. All I know is that it's been a while.

My trusty bicycle. Last used in the days before gasoline became a living expense. Last ridden about 60 pounds ago.

About a month back, I took up an interest in running. I wasn't out of shape, but I wasn't in the 4 percent body fat shape I was in entering college. Since then, my lanky frame has filled out a bit (as a point of reference: I stopped growing upwards at around age 14 -- I was about 5'10 then, and I'm 6'0 now. Around 130 then, around 190 now), and even though I've had a gym membership (and used it) for the last year or so, the pesky beginnings of a beer gut are still hanging around. I'm not sure I've felt more feminine than as I did writing that last sentence. But anyway.

I live in a moderately sized city, and 90% of the driving I do when I'm not commuting to work can be done very easily on a bike. Saves money, burns calories, I figured why not. Running never interested me, since I always ended up in the same place I started. It felt pointless. Running in circles. Sure I got out of breath and broke a sweat, but it always seemed like an exercise in frustration more than anything else since you weren't actually getting anywhere.

Enter the bicycle. Or rather, re-enter the bicycle. Seems like the obvious solution to both problems -- being too cheap for gas and too out of shape for the beach.

Of course, as with all my plans, there is a drawback. And that drawback is biking attire. Now, I don't consider myself the height of fashion. In fact, far from it. I'm more Wired Magazine than GQ. But come on. Nevermind the neon spandex, those are just out of the question. Spandex is reserved for professional cyclists and middle-aged European men. Although the latter might want to rethink that strategy.

Where was I?

Oh, right, the biking attire. No, besides the spandex there is the hideous feature of the biking helmet. The bike helmet might just be the most fashion-backward and ridiculous looking piece of equipment this side of a Monty Python film. There is nobody on planet Earth who can wear one without looking like a race of plastic-afro-wearing humanoids from the future. In spandex. But, since I plan on riding my notacar to the pubs, I caved. For the sake of not becoming a vegetable, if nothing else. So quit laughing. I mean it.

We'll see how this experiment goes. It may last until the fall, it may last until the next time it rains. We'll find out then. In the meantime, I'm serious-- stop laughing.

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