Anything here? No, just repeats...
I commute to work each day, so that's 15.94 miles of Kelly Dr. along the Schulkill (sp? no-one here knows how to spell that damn thing) River, and our parks system allows for bicycling to just about anywhere. The upshot of all this is it's easy to burn calories, which is good because I have been consuming them
Life has so much to offer, and sometimes I'm aware of that and I feel like a spoiled brat for allowing this damn eating disorder comsume as much mental energy as it does. Other times I'm thankful for it, because sometimes my mental energy goes in directions that I don't really care for, and the distraction, however unhealthy it may be, brings relief from my awareness. I've been feeling ok, if somewhat run down, so I've been eating. But since this is so ingrained, I am very uncomfortable with it. Am I going to be struggling with this horseshit for the rest of my life?
Bicycled some today, even though I didn't have much energy. Went to the shop, where I store a couple of my motorcycles, and managed to get the '66 Aermacchi racer started without breaking my leg. It's a nightmare to start, but runs well once once it is, and after some fiddling with the carb, it settled into a nice, steady tickover. I grabbed my helmet and gloves, changed into some riding gear that I keep there, and shot off down the drives. It's like being in the middle of a parade, being on this bike. Even people who know absolutely nothing about bikes stare at this thing. This is one case where being anorexic pays off, because it's long, low, lean, lithe, and narrow... Uncomfortably narrow, really. Well, it's a vintage racebike, and it was built to go fast, not be plush. Off I go, swinging through the bends, making racket, trying not to miss shifts thanks to a right-foot shifter with gp shift-pattern...trouble times two on the road, not to menetion the rear brake is, uh, on the other side of where they usually are. Crazy Italians. Every red light brings a million questions, "what is it? How old? How fast?" Thankfully there's not many along the river drives. It can be cool but sometimes i just want to cane the thing like it was meant to be, when it was made years before i was born. Modern bikes are soooo easy to go flying around all day long at 120 on twisty roads that the challenge isn't in riding the bike well, but in not hitting someting or getting caught. The Aermacchi is different: it probably tops out around 100, it's stable, but does NOT suffer fools who fail to manuevre it smoothly, and to go fast takes work And the best part is when I'm getting along with the insanely laid-out controls, getting the gears right, and it's actually running right, it's...magic. No, better than that, it's rewarding, because it takes effort and concentration. I probably never broke 80, but on this bike that feels a lot more exciting than 160 on any other bike I have owned. On this, 80 feels like 220.
There's an old racer i know who used to race back in the '60's, and he had one of these, along with the usual Nortons and all the other British racing bikes. He said if i ever want to sell it, to let him know. If it ever came to that, I'd probably just give it to him, because he is the only other person who probaly knows how to start it. If I ever get killed on one of the other bikes, or if I get clobbered by a falling air-conditioner, it's written that he gets the bike. That's as it should be, because he'll ride the nuts off it, too.
Two lives: First is the world as seen through my eating disorder. Second is as a college student who loves the grace and charisma of two-wheeled vehicles, be they pedal bikes or motor bikes. I wonder which one will do me in first? I wish i could paint.
Life has so much to offer, and sometimes I'm aware of that and I feel like a spoiled brat for allowing this damn eating disorder comsume as much mental energy as it does. Other times I'm thankful for it, because sometimes my mental energy goes in directions that I don't really care for, and the distraction, however unhealthy it may be, brings relief from my awareness. I've been feeling ok, if somewhat run down, so I've been eating. But since this is so ingrained, I am very uncomfortable with it. Am I going to be struggling with this horseshit for the rest of my life?
Bicycled some today, even though I didn't have much energy. Went to the shop, where I store a couple of my motorcycles, and managed to get the '66 Aermacchi racer started without breaking my leg. It's a nightmare to start, but runs well once once it is, and after some fiddling with the carb, it settled into a nice, steady tickover. I grabbed my helmet and gloves, changed into some riding gear that I keep there, and shot off down the drives. It's like being in the middle of a parade, being on this bike. Even people who know absolutely nothing about bikes stare at this thing. This is one case where being anorexic pays off, because it's long, low, lean, lithe, and narrow... Uncomfortably narrow, really. Well, it's a vintage racebike, and it was built to go fast, not be plush. Off I go, swinging through the bends, making racket, trying not to miss shifts thanks to a right-foot shifter with gp shift-pattern...trouble times two on the road, not to menetion the rear brake is, uh, on the other side of where they usually are. Crazy Italians. Every red light brings a million questions, "what is it? How old? How fast?" Thankfully there's not many along the river drives. It can be cool but sometimes i just want to cane the thing like it was meant to be, when it was made years before i was born. Modern bikes are soooo easy to go flying around all day long at 120 on twisty roads that the challenge isn't in riding the bike well, but in not hitting someting or getting caught. The Aermacchi is different: it probably tops out around 100, it's stable, but does NOT suffer fools who fail to manuevre it smoothly, and to go fast takes work And the best part is when I'm getting along with the insanely laid-out controls, getting the gears right, and it's actually running right, it's...magic. No, better than that, it's rewarding, because it takes effort and concentration. I probably never broke 80, but on this bike that feels a lot more exciting than 160 on any other bike I have owned. On this, 80 feels like 220.
There's an old racer i know who used to race back in the '60's, and he had one of these, along with the usual Nortons and all the other British racing bikes. He said if i ever want to sell it, to let him know. If it ever came to that, I'd probably just give it to him, because he is the only other person who probaly knows how to start it. If I ever get killed on one of the other bikes, or if I get clobbered by a falling air-conditioner, it's written that he gets the bike. That's as it should be, because he'll ride the nuts off it, too.
Two lives: First is the world as seen through my eating disorder. Second is as a college student who loves the grace and charisma of two-wheeled vehicles, be they pedal bikes or motor bikes. I wonder which one will do me in first? I wish i could paint.