My Little Red Schwinn

I had a realization the other day. We've all had those moments.... You suddenly find yourself waiting at a time when you didn't anticipate waiting and you somehow get caught without your iPod, Blackberry, a book or (my personal favorite) the crossword puzzle in someone else's discarded newspaper... Your mind starts to wander and you end up thinking of something sort of world-view-changing. Perhaps you figured out how to cure cancer or what it will take to attain world peace or a solution to global warming, but my few moments of unadulterated thought led me to the conclusion that while I was approaching my 30s, my life had recently been completely changed by something I learned how to do when I was five years old. Riding a bike changed my life.

Remember that first ride? You finally convinced your parents that you didn't need training wheels anymore and in the middle of the street somewhere Dad let go of the seat. Oh yeah! You are cruising! You're a little scared, a little nervous, but mostly you're just reveling in the freedom. The freedom of your shiny red Schwinn that's going to take you all over the neighborhood and over to your friends' houses and into whatever trouble you can get yourself into. And that bike didn't let you down, it made your five-year-old dreams come true, but a few years later a few bikes later and you had your eye on a bigger kind of freedom. A car, then an apartment, a career, retirement, and you keep trying to find new freedoms until one day you’re telling your lawyer, as your last attempt at freedom from a coffin or an urn, you'd like your family to spread your ashes at the site of your secret fishing spot. But there are a few lucky folks out there who have an ability to hold onto little moments of freedom. I'd like to think I'm one of those people.

Riding a bike as an adult is pretty much the same as when you were five. The bikes and the accessories are a bit more expensive, but as soon as I sit on that saddle I feel all of my worries and distractions melt away into the excitement of pedaling to my destination. Suddenly it’s not about the destination; it’s about the sun on my back, the wind in my hair, the burn in my muscles, and the freedom to go anywhere my legs will take me. And even though I’ve graduated from the banana seat, I still manage to crash and skin my knees and occasionally get into trouble with my other hoodlum bike friends.

The pride that you took in your first bike also extends into adulthood. Each bike I own is beautiful and perfect for its function and I always show off my new ride like a proud parent with a newborn. Bikes are such personal items compared to cars. It’s true that some people out there invest a lot into the selection and customization of their vehicle, but to most, a car is just transportation. Just a way to get to an end point. The majority of cyclists are, well, bike nerds. Our bikes are extensions of who we are. We care about the materials being used and how they’re welded, what kind of paint/finish is applied, how much it weighs, what kind of brakes work best, what the gear ratio is, and not just what company makes our bikes but who they are as people and what their economical and environmental impact is. We will put in the hours to research every review on a bike of interest and subscribe to blogs to be the first to hear the inside scoop on new components and spend hundreds of dollars on finding the perfect saddle. And then we enjoy the fruits of our labor. Going just that little bit faster because you dropped a pound or so of total weight or feeling how much smoother your gears work together after the application of a new lube or even the satisfaction of finding a bell that puts a smile on your face, those little things make all the difference.

There are things about cycling that are different, though, and changed my life in ways I never anticipated. I never anticipated calling myself a cyclist. Perhaps I should tell you the story of how I, in fact, became a cyclist. Growing up I never played sports and I’m not the most athletically gifted person. I do like to stay active though and enjoy things like hiking, going to the gym, etc. so when I was offered an administrative job at a bike shop it seemed like a good enough fit. Being thrown into the bike nerd subculture as an individual who hadn’t ridden a bike since passing a driving test, I was perplexed by the obsessions but immediately caught onto the sense of community. Bike nerds speak a different language. Over time I immersed myself in this community, hanging out with bike mechanics, professional mountain bikers, and other bike industry folk despite the fact that I was terrified of actually riding a bike. To me, riding a bike took skills, skills I didn’t have and I didn’t want to look like I didn’t know what I was doing on a bicycle. And then one day I let someone talk me into it. This particular day of bicycle riding was not your average jaunt around the neighborhood, it was a full face helmet, body armor, take a ski lift up and throw yourself down a mountain sort of ride. I never looked back. I once again felt the freedom I experienced on my little red Schwinn and it didn’t just last for that ride, I feel that freedom every time I hop on a bike. Whether I’m riding to work, on the trails with friends, or to the grocery store I feel like I'm five again.

In addition to the benefits of feeling like a child – immediate stress relief, the feeling of invincibility, and an ability to concentrate on immediate enjoyment without distractions – I’ve noticed other little changes. When you don't have a trunk or a back seat, hauling things like a change of clothes or all of your groceries becomes a challenge. You can choose the minimalist approach and just go with a backpack or a messenger bag, or if you've got a bit more stuff there are options like mounting panniers next to your wheels or a basket on your handlebars. Planning is a way of life when you spend your time on two wheels, but there are always times where you just need to get a bit more creative. Being a cyclist has also sparked my interest in local politics. Improved bike lanes, trails, and efforts to keep our roads swept and pot hole free are important issues to me. Being more aware of my carbon footprint and that of others was also a change; I've always recycled, but when you're out riding a bike next to multiple lanes of cars and their exhaust it's hard to not think about the impact we're making on the environment. But by far the biggest change has been my diet. We're not talking about the South Beach diet, we're talking about the I-can't-stop-eating diet. I'm constantly either eating, hungry, or thinking about what I'm going to eat next. If I won the lottery tomorrow, I would probably just buy food.

Sometimes I feel ridiculous when I ride with my friends. Most of my friends have been riding for the last 20 or 30 years and have more skills in their pinkie toes than I have in my entire body, but I've stopped caring about how silly I look on my bike. I just want to ride my bicycle. Becoming a bike nerd completely changed my life, in a way that helped me appreciate the small moments in life. Go ahead, go dust off that bike and pump up the tires. Don't we all want to feel like a kid again sometimes?

I heart Mad Libs

You may or may not know that I love words. I love words like "asinine", "bombastic", and "perhaps". And I am very easily entertained by even the stupidest little things, therefore if follows that I would love something like Mad Libs. Sure, you guys are all cynical at first, until I break out my "Best of Mad Libs" and scribble down "entrails" for part of the body. I'm hoping that this post starts a new tradition: Mad Lib Monday. Ok, enough already, let's see last night's results (libs in bold). 

Figure Skating

As a crowd of more than nineteen thousand octopi filed into the hungrily designed auditorium, Delanie, our bottle cage-skating champion, went through her warm-up magnet. For the first time in her tasty life, the champion felt frightened and sticky. As the music began, the champion took a sweaty breath, smoothed the ruffles of her spike, and started to vote. Just as she feared, when it came time for her most asinine jump, a triple skin flute, she lost her balance and landed on her circuit breaker. She stood up bravely, brushed the ice off of her tent, and finished her hairy routine. The crowd gave her a five-minute standing scooter. Even though she realized she had lost the competition, she knew she had won the hearts and spoons of every bush in the auditorium.

Last night's texts

We've all heard of textsfromlastnight.com however I appear to be quite prolific in my own right.  Here are some gems from the past few nights...

"Your name? Was that covered in lecture? I was told there would be no quizzes..."

"I heart you already. When do we ride?"

"Um... It appears that I have a new roommate... I've named him Clark, and he's welcome to stay, but I charge rent... and he's a little too big for me, if ya know what I mean..."

"For reals? A drinking problem? BTW, we're drinking on Saturday..."

"That new strip club in SoDo is hiring. I hear "new career" ringing in my ears."

"I heart you already"

"I'm not sure whether to think maybe you just haven't checked your email yet, or my crazy factor just increased tenfold. My only conclusion can be that, at some point, I have royally fucked up."

"He gets a relationship DNF"

"Added to the list of Del's prohibited activities: drunk reading, drunk inferring, drunk assuming, drunk texting... oops, my pajamas are on inside out."

"Deleted that douche immediately."

And one TO ME: "Let's hook up Monday eve then... drinks...then ?"

Hoodie Footie

I had to find something inspiring as my first official blog post, and I finally found that something special. The Hoodie-Footie. There is, really, so much to say about this piece of apparel. If you haven't seen the video already, scroll down, have a look, then continue reading.

1. Surely they do background checks to make sure you already own Uggs, so you can easily make it to class without changing. After you apply your make up and grab your Juicy Couture purse. This must be the only reason to make the feet removable.

2. What is the protocol for under-the-Hoodie-Footie? Seems like it could be uncomfortable with clothing on underneath. Is commando cool? Should you wear a tank top so you aren't naked while on the pot?

3. Speaking of the bathroom situation, why not a butt-flap? Seems like a lot of work to get comfortable again. For the 2nd generation Hoodie-Footies, I'd like to request a few different options:

a) one with a butt flap

b) one with a butt flap and a front zipper that unzips from the bottom as well as the top (I haven't forgotten about you, boys.)

c) one with a detachable pouch for your colostomy or catheter bag(s) - sick people should be comfortable too

4. Clearly, the same folks were hired to do this infomercial as those who bring us the commercials for phone dating lines. Same set, same girls rolling around on a bed while talking on the phone with some creep. I can only hope that there was a double billing scam. Perhaps in the future, the dating lines can endorse the Hoodie-Footie and promote it in their adverts. Just unzip the top a bit to reveal some stunning cleavage.

5. The Hoodie-Footie seems more like clothing than the highly functional Snuggie. I mean, you can just throw your Snuggie on over clothing. It's not awkward to borrow someone else's Snuggie. Or you can snuggle with your honey under one, pretending to be siamese twins, each with an arm hanging through a sleeve (leaving the extra hand for __________...)

6. Hoodie-Footie parties promise to be more inclusive than Snuggie Pub Crawls. It can be fun for the whole family and pillow fights are mandatory. However I wouldn't invite any of those freaky Furries; they might confuse your marshmallow plushness with an invitation for furry love. Hey, what's that in your kangaroo pocket?

7. Was it ever that hard to just put on a pair of socks?

To Blog or Not to Blog

That is the question. These days I feel like I have quite a bit to say on the topic of life. Perhaps Facebook and Twitter are not enough of an outlet for my rantings, so do I continue to impose myself upon those unfortunate enough to feign interest in my musings on the interwebs?