T
Truestorys
Guest
If I didn't have Bad Luck, I'd have No Luck…….
Bad Luck Part 1.
So I got a new Aero Ti Recumbent and now I effused with wanting to get in the best shape that I can.
And what better way to get in shape than Commute to work. Twelve miles each way. Twenty Four miles a
day. 365 days a year.
Why that's 8760 miles a year! All Right! To get started I load a gym bag full of clean cloths off my
closet rack, put the recumbent in the back of the van and drive to work. That way, I ride home at
night and in the morning return to work on the bike. You just don't want to dive right into this
8769 miles a year thing.
So I sneak out of work at 4 to avoid the killing rush hour race with higher primates is SUV's. I've
got 12 miles to go. It's 97 degree's on the big temperature clock. And I've got a full Camel Back. I
start cruising along Jollyville road and I'm surprised to find that the traffic is light and most of
it actually respects me and gives me room to live. Only a moron talking on her Cell phone while
applying eye shadow makeup, in an oversized gigantic white Chevy Suburban, is any threat to my
existence.
At about the 6 mile mark, I join up with Palmer Road, It has more traffic, but it has a nice wide
10-foot shoulder. But here I think the heat of the day begins to talk it's toll and I begin to slow
down and can't seem to make any speed. It's hot and I have to sit at the traffic lights with cars
emitting foul black odors. So as I leave each Stoplight, I try and crank on the pedals and build up
some speed to make it home before the sun cooks my brain. But I can't.
I can't seem to go more than 9 or 10 miles an hour. God it must be the heat. Or I'm sick. I try and
try to push hard on the pedals and make this new 3 million dollar recumbent go, but I can't.
On a small upward slope, a road bike blast past me and I try and hang onto his wheel, just to show
him all recumbent riders aren't slugs, but I can't. I have no power in my legs.
I am a slug.
I begin to convince my self that I'm sick. Yea, I've ridden too hard in the last couple of days on
this new wonder bike and I'm just exhausted. I'm like a fine tuned athlete after a marathon run and
I'm just spent. God I need a rest.
So I ride a couple of more miles and get within about a mile of Home. There's a hill there I'd like
to ride, to add a few more miles before I go home. Everybody needs hill work to get stronger. Right?
So I start up this hill and my legs are just D.O.A. (Dead On Arrival) The are just quivery jelly
masses of lactic acid. I just can't push hard enough to make it up this stinken hill!!
I now know that I have the Flu or the Bubonic plague or SARs. Yea, I'm probably in the early stages
of SARs. I knew I should never had lunch with that Asian guy form Toronto.
So halfway up this stupid little hill, I give up. I just turn around, tuck my tail between my legs
and give up. I coast down the hill wondering what the cure for SARs is and head for home.
A mile latter I pull into my garage. Hot, tired, and disgusted. But, I'm not a quitter! Even if I'm
within days of dying, I will commute to work tomorrow morning.
So to be ready for the next days commute, I will be sure each tire is filled to the maximum pressure
that is allowed in my Vredestein Fortezza 145 pound per square inch racing tires. So I just reach
over and give each tire a finger squeeze test to see how each tire is doing and………
There is no AIR in the Stinken rear Tire!!
I have a stupid God Damn flat!!
I've been riding about 6 miles on a flat rear tire!
What a moron.
I don't have SARs!
I'm going to live to ride to work tomorrow.
Bad Luck Part 1.
So I got a new Aero Ti Recumbent and now I effused with wanting to get in the best shape that I can.
And what better way to get in shape than Commute to work. Twelve miles each way. Twenty Four miles a
day. 365 days a year.
Why that's 8760 miles a year! All Right! To get started I load a gym bag full of clean cloths off my
closet rack, put the recumbent in the back of the van and drive to work. That way, I ride home at
night and in the morning return to work on the bike. You just don't want to dive right into this
8769 miles a year thing.
So I sneak out of work at 4 to avoid the killing rush hour race with higher primates is SUV's. I've
got 12 miles to go. It's 97 degree's on the big temperature clock. And I've got a full Camel Back. I
start cruising along Jollyville road and I'm surprised to find that the traffic is light and most of
it actually respects me and gives me room to live. Only a moron talking on her Cell phone while
applying eye shadow makeup, in an oversized gigantic white Chevy Suburban, is any threat to my
existence.
At about the 6 mile mark, I join up with Palmer Road, It has more traffic, but it has a nice wide
10-foot shoulder. But here I think the heat of the day begins to talk it's toll and I begin to slow
down and can't seem to make any speed. It's hot and I have to sit at the traffic lights with cars
emitting foul black odors. So as I leave each Stoplight, I try and crank on the pedals and build up
some speed to make it home before the sun cooks my brain. But I can't.
I can't seem to go more than 9 or 10 miles an hour. God it must be the heat. Or I'm sick. I try and
try to push hard on the pedals and make this new 3 million dollar recumbent go, but I can't.
On a small upward slope, a road bike blast past me and I try and hang onto his wheel, just to show
him all recumbent riders aren't slugs, but I can't. I have no power in my legs.
I am a slug.
I begin to convince my self that I'm sick. Yea, I've ridden too hard in the last couple of days on
this new wonder bike and I'm just exhausted. I'm like a fine tuned athlete after a marathon run and
I'm just spent. God I need a rest.
So I ride a couple of more miles and get within about a mile of Home. There's a hill there I'd like
to ride, to add a few more miles before I go home. Everybody needs hill work to get stronger. Right?
So I start up this hill and my legs are just D.O.A. (Dead On Arrival) The are just quivery jelly
masses of lactic acid. I just can't push hard enough to make it up this stinken hill!!
I now know that I have the Flu or the Bubonic plague or SARs. Yea, I'm probably in the early stages
of SARs. I knew I should never had lunch with that Asian guy form Toronto.
So halfway up this stupid little hill, I give up. I just turn around, tuck my tail between my legs
and give up. I coast down the hill wondering what the cure for SARs is and head for home.
A mile latter I pull into my garage. Hot, tired, and disgusted. But, I'm not a quitter! Even if I'm
within days of dying, I will commute to work tomorrow morning.
So to be ready for the next days commute, I will be sure each tire is filled to the maximum pressure
that is allowed in my Vredestein Fortezza 145 pound per square inch racing tires. So I just reach
over and give each tire a finger squeeze test to see how each tire is doing and………
There is no AIR in the Stinken rear Tire!!
I have a stupid God Damn flat!!
I've been riding about 6 miles on a flat rear tire!
What a moron.
I don't have SARs!
I'm going to live to ride to work tomorrow.
