3 miles with Dog
Weight Training- Back/Bi's/Legs
Weight Training- Back/Bi's/Legs
Yesterday I found myself doing something I had not done in 10 years- I went for a bike ride. Way back before we had children, my husband and I lived in a 700 sq ft apartment in Hampton Roads. It had the most scenic view- a 7-11 and a bar (could get a slushy or a shot, depending on your preference), and we met the most colorful people (the young man rolling joints in the stairwell was always super polite...or just stoned-in any case, he was easy to get along with as long as you didn't call the cops). Running around our neighborhood just wasn't an option, unless you wanted to end up on the nightly news, so we had to jump in the car and go to better neighborhoods or parks. It made us get out and explore new places and we found many trails to run- and to bike.
The Husband decided it was time to get ourselves a couple of bikes. Mountain bikes that we would pay more for than all of our furniture combined, seeing as at that time, all we had were hand-me-downs- mismatched pieces of furniture from living and bedroom sets that no one wanted anymore. Between rides, those bikes took up half of our tiny living room. As jobs changed and we moved, then the babies came, the bikes collected dust throughout the years. Since we've moved to Missouri in 2007, the same bike I've had since 1999 has been hanging on the wall in our garage. A few weeks ago, my husband dusted his off, had it serviced at a nearby bike shop and started riding again. Yesterday, as he was heading out the door for a ride, I decided to join him.
I had to borrow my son's helmet, seeing as mine had been left/lost only God knows where. The Husband had to disconnect the front brakes since the front wheel rim had been bent ever so slightly and the brakes rubbed with a very annoying thwomp thwomp thwomp. I was reminded to only use my back brakes. I didn't tell him that trying to brake and seeing that I wasn't slowing down was probably going to be reminder enough, but seeing as nobody likes a smartass, I kept it to myself. We started out and it was surprisingly fun. The wind felt great, my husband was yelling back at me over his shoulder instructions on how to switch gears for going up hills and which way we were turning next. Even though I felt like I was slowing him down, everytime I looked back, he had a grin on his face. It could have been my awesome skull and crossbones helmet, but I think it was for the same reason I had a goofy grin spread across my own- we were having alot of fun together. Riding a bike takes me back to when I had my purple Huffy with the unicorn banana seat and purple streamers on the handlebars. I would ride all over the small town I grew up in whizzing by houses and coasting down hills with my bare feet up on the handlebars.
I was almost sorry to see the ride end, until I got off my bike. I hurt in places I didn't know could hurt. But when the Husband asked if I wanted him to hang my bike back on the garage wall, I told him no, it would make it hard for me to get it down to ride again. And surprisingly to me, sore muscles and all- I can't wait to go again.
The Husband decided it was time to get ourselves a couple of bikes. Mountain bikes that we would pay more for than all of our furniture combined, seeing as at that time, all we had were hand-me-downs- mismatched pieces of furniture from living and bedroom sets that no one wanted anymore. Between rides, those bikes took up half of our tiny living room. As jobs changed and we moved, then the babies came, the bikes collected dust throughout the years. Since we've moved to Missouri in 2007, the same bike I've had since 1999 has been hanging on the wall in our garage. A few weeks ago, my husband dusted his off, had it serviced at a nearby bike shop and started riding again. Yesterday, as he was heading out the door for a ride, I decided to join him.
I had to borrow my son's helmet, seeing as mine had been left/lost only God knows where. The Husband had to disconnect the front brakes since the front wheel rim had been bent ever so slightly and the brakes rubbed with a very annoying thwomp thwomp thwomp. I was reminded to only use my back brakes. I didn't tell him that trying to brake and seeing that I wasn't slowing down was probably going to be reminder enough, but seeing as nobody likes a smartass, I kept it to myself. We started out and it was surprisingly fun. The wind felt great, my husband was yelling back at me over his shoulder instructions on how to switch gears for going up hills and which way we were turning next. Even though I felt like I was slowing him down, everytime I looked back, he had a grin on his face. It could have been my awesome skull and crossbones helmet, but I think it was for the same reason I had a goofy grin spread across my own- we were having alot of fun together. Riding a bike takes me back to when I had my purple Huffy with the unicorn banana seat and purple streamers on the handlebars. I would ride all over the small town I grew up in whizzing by houses and coasting down hills with my bare feet up on the handlebars.
I was almost sorry to see the ride end, until I got off my bike. I hurt in places I didn't know could hurt. But when the Husband asked if I wanted him to hang my bike back on the garage wall, I told him no, it would make it hard for me to get it down to ride again. And surprisingly to me, sore muscles and all- I can't wait to go again.
No comments:
Post a Comment