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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1745612-Bike-Riding
Rated: ASR · Short Story · Activity · #1745612
An atempt to get back in the healthy swing of things!
    Ladies and Gentlemen of the world, I give you this warning –

         BE CAREFUL ON THE ROADS OUT THERE!!

    Why, you may ask, do I feel the need to give you all this warning? That, my friends, has a simple answer. I have done something monumentally brave, a true show of guts, and totally stupid, all at the same time.

    In the true spirit of spring, and wanting so much not to look like an over-sized couch cushion the rest of my life, I decided to get myself a bike.

    The old saying goes that it is ”Just like riding a bike. You never really forget.”

    You forget. Believe me, you forget.

    I picked the coldest afternoon in a week of warm weather and walked from my apartment up to my local Wal-Mart, a walk of a little less than a mile and a half, and I was feeling quite good as I walked through the door. I should have known then that I would be better off staying on my feet.

    Once in the sporting goods section I picked out the best bike in my price range, i.e., the cheapest one they had, a helmet and a bike lock. I was going to do this in style, and safely of course. Down to the checkout, and just over a hundred dollars later, I was through the door and riding across the parking lot. (Note to self at this point, if I decide to keep the bike, my next purchase will be a bike seat slightly softer than a cinder block.)

    Out on to the open road! Wind whipping in my face! (It must be ten degrees out today! Fahrenheit!)

    Ok, let’s pull into this conveniently placed cemetery and see what is wrong. The first thing to do is to blame the shooting pain in your legs on the fact that the store improperly inflated the tires, placed the seat at an awkward angle, pushed the handle bars too far forward, and all sorts of other things that I am probably sure were out of their control. But better to blame them than to admit that you should have done something this winter other than sitting in your living room chair sucking down nacho chips.

    Riding up and down the deserted drives you try hard to convince yourself that you can, indeed, do this. People have been riding bikes their whole lives. It is how the Wright brothers financed the building of the first airplane. You ride around in circles until you can no longer take the pain, the cold, or both, then you set off for home, momentarily feeling a little bit better about yourself.

    Down the hill. As you pass the sign posting the speed limit at 25, you think to yourself that you must, at this point, be uncontrollably barreling down the slope at a minimum of 75 miles per hour, even though you are barely breaking ten.

    Up the hill. You decide it might be better to walk this one. Less pain. And you want to get there before a month of Sundays passes.

    Down the hill again. You decide to coast this one, though you’re not sure why.

    Be sure to stop at all the stop signs, and observe traffic safety laws. Why the He** did they decide to put these stop signs so close together, anyways? I prefer to walk my bike through intersections. I have it in my head that it is safer than riding through, and it is both faster and less painful than trying to get going from a dead stop.

    Up into the driveway, and you once again get off your bike. This involves peeling the little hard plastic seat out of a place that was not designed to receive hard plastic seats, especially at that depth.

    That’s enough for day one. And maybe days two and three as well. Who knows, maybe in a few more days I will be brave, or foolish, or both, and get back on. But not before installing a nice comfortable seat.

    So for all you out there that are driving around in your nice comfortable cars, heading off for here or there this spring, be sure to watch out for those of us that choose to defy the rules of nature to become…

    Another fat man on the road…

    Pretending he can ride a bike.
© Copyright 2011 Turtle ~ KanyáthƐko:wa:h (marnts at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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