Thursday, June 4, 2009

Flat tire blues

There's nothing quite like a flat tire first thing in the morning to really get your day off right.  People talk about getting up on the wrong side of the bed; try getting up on the right side of the bed in excited anticipation of the morning bike ride/therapy session, your every morning activity shadowed by the glorious thought of the morning bike ride, and then you notice the flat tire!  

Your day suddenly turns to crap and you in-turn turn in to Henry Rollins; your turned inside out, screaming at the top of your lungs, eardrums ready to explode from elevated blood pressure of 100 psi.  And all of this at 6:00 a.m.

You look at the flat tire and try to understand just what has happened.  It was pumped up last night when you kissed your bike good night after reading a bed time story to it.  In the middle of the night you woke up to get a glass of water and you affectionately looked at your bike and, content, returned to sleep. Then the morning comes.  You're rushing to shower, to get dressed, check your bag and its contents: pump, check; bike lock, check; protein shake mix, check; book on biking, check; train money, check.  You strap your helmet on, don your bike gauntlets, roll your right pant leg up.  You are ready.  

And then you notice the flat tire.  You start to cry like a baby. Why God, why?  And then you realize your anger rush over you like this morning's semi luke-warm shower.  Beginning from the top of your head, to your trembling lips, toyour throat, your gut, and finally washing down to the tips of your toes. Hello anger, old friend.  

There's no really good way to explain the displeasure of being denied something you love to do every morning: ride the bike.  Riding the bike isn't like driving the car. No. Riding the bike is therapy.  Wind in your ears, pedaling, breathing, and thinking.  Your working life is put into perspective. Relationships are finally understood for the joy they are.  You fantasize about what it must have been like to make the gnarly ascent up the Gavia on June 5, 1988. And on your morning ride, when your legs begin to burn and your mind starts to doubt, you remind your over weight self that it is possible to do it because Mike Magnuson did it. All of this from a simple 30 minute bike ride.  

All of this gone, momentarily, because of the damn the flat tire!    

No comments:

Post a Comment