in an effort to update more, let me tell you a story about my weekend
I got a new bike for Christmas.
I know, Christmas is a month past. We all know I'm terrible at updating, but it's actually worse than you think because I got my Christmas present the day before Thanksgiving. Ha.
We got it used, because I had my heart set on a beach cruiser (even though I live nowhere near a beach), and an Electra at that, and those are a bit expensive. I found one on Craigslist, told Philip about it, and he went and bought it for me. So I've been riding Betty (that is what I named her) for about two months now, and on Saturday mornings, Betty and I ride the Rillito River Trail to varying places. The trail is about 30 miles long, and this Saturday I decided to go 25 miles.
It was doomed from the start - two blocks away from home I realized the air in the front tire was ridiculously low, so I turned around and went back, pumped it up, and left again. Everything was going fine for awhile; I beat my previous pace to the end of the trail (not easy to do on a one-speed) and I was pushing harder than normal to get a good time going back home. And then, about 9 miles from home, the chain slipped off Betty and got caught inbetween the gear and the gear cover. I pulled and tugged and yanked and did everything I could think of to get it out, but after ten minutes, I was sweaty, frustrated, crying, and I was covered in grease. Not just my hands, but I'd wiped my tears and sweat off my face, so I had grease smudges under my eyes. I probably looked like a football player who had just lost the Superbowl.
I had no one would could come and pick me up, but thankfully, as I decided to walk to the nearest bus stop and wait until a bus came (Saturday service runs every hour, so it would have been a long wait), a guy running the trail stopped, told me to hold the bike, and fixed it for me. It took him a few minutes but eventually he got it working again, told me to ride slow on the way home and avoid bumps, and to fix the tension before I rode again. Then he left. Not another word.
I decided to to go the nearest bus station, which was about 2 miles away and not very far off the trail. There was a bus there that would take me within a mile of my house ... but it turns out they raised the bus prices since the last time I rode on SunTran, and the $1.53 I had on me was not enough to catch a ride.
So I rode home. Very, very slowly. I took a more direct route, so my ride ended up being around 21 miles instead of 25, but I was just glad to get home with no further damage. I was a little tired, but I wasn't sore, and after taking 40 minutes to scrub all the grease off my skin (it was everywhere by the end of the ride - my hands, face, arms, chest (I am still not sure how it ended up there) and legs), I went to join Philip at the air museum and we hung out and looked and planes and they had an art show reception there later so we stayed for that, and it was a nice day. I was a little sore by the end of the day, but it wasn't too bad.
By the time I woke up Sunday morning, a little sore had turned into oh my God my legs are on fire. I could hardly move. Standing, sitting, and walking were all horrifyingly painful, so of course that was the day I had planned to drag Philip out shopping to get a new shirt for our engagement photos. And do you know what else isn't fun when you can hardly move? Mass. All that bobbing and kneeling ... it was killer. I feel a tiny bit better 24 hours and approximately half a bottle of Ibuprofin later, but even touching my thighs is painful, like poking a bruise.
Yeesh. And next week, haha, I'll probably do it all again. But hopeful not the part where my bike breaks.
Anyway. Philip and I are headed up to Seattle on Thursday (hooray!). Amber and Dani are doing our engagement photos on Friday, I'll hopefully get to see Allie on Saturday, and then we're going to a Superbowl party on Sunday before we head home. Yay! I'm super excited.
I know, Christmas is a month past. We all know I'm terrible at updating, but it's actually worse than you think because I got my Christmas present the day before Thanksgiving. Ha.
We got it used, because I had my heart set on a beach cruiser (even though I live nowhere near a beach), and an Electra at that, and those are a bit expensive. I found one on Craigslist, told Philip about it, and he went and bought it for me. So I've been riding Betty (that is what I named her) for about two months now, and on Saturday mornings, Betty and I ride the Rillito River Trail to varying places. The trail is about 30 miles long, and this Saturday I decided to go 25 miles.
It was doomed from the start - two blocks away from home I realized the air in the front tire was ridiculously low, so I turned around and went back, pumped it up, and left again. Everything was going fine for awhile; I beat my previous pace to the end of the trail (not easy to do on a one-speed) and I was pushing harder than normal to get a good time going back home. And then, about 9 miles from home, the chain slipped off Betty and got caught inbetween the gear and the gear cover. I pulled and tugged and yanked and did everything I could think of to get it out, but after ten minutes, I was sweaty, frustrated, crying, and I was covered in grease. Not just my hands, but I'd wiped my tears and sweat off my face, so I had grease smudges under my eyes. I probably looked like a football player who had just lost the Superbowl.
I had no one would could come and pick me up, but thankfully, as I decided to walk to the nearest bus stop and wait until a bus came (Saturday service runs every hour, so it would have been a long wait), a guy running the trail stopped, told me to hold the bike, and fixed it for me. It took him a few minutes but eventually he got it working again, told me to ride slow on the way home and avoid bumps, and to fix the tension before I rode again. Then he left. Not another word.
I decided to to go the nearest bus station, which was about 2 miles away and not very far off the trail. There was a bus there that would take me within a mile of my house ... but it turns out they raised the bus prices since the last time I rode on SunTran, and the $1.53 I had on me was not enough to catch a ride.
So I rode home. Very, very slowly. I took a more direct route, so my ride ended up being around 21 miles instead of 25, but I was just glad to get home with no further damage. I was a little tired, but I wasn't sore, and after taking 40 minutes to scrub all the grease off my skin (it was everywhere by the end of the ride - my hands, face, arms, chest (I am still not sure how it ended up there) and legs), I went to join Philip at the air museum and we hung out and looked and planes and they had an art show reception there later so we stayed for that, and it was a nice day. I was a little sore by the end of the day, but it wasn't too bad.
By the time I woke up Sunday morning, a little sore had turned into oh my God my legs are on fire. I could hardly move. Standing, sitting, and walking were all horrifyingly painful, so of course that was the day I had planned to drag Philip out shopping to get a new shirt for our engagement photos. And do you know what else isn't fun when you can hardly move? Mass. All that bobbing and kneeling ... it was killer. I feel a tiny bit better 24 hours and approximately half a bottle of Ibuprofin later, but even touching my thighs is painful, like poking a bruise.
Yeesh. And next week, haha, I'll probably do it all again. But hopeful not the part where my bike breaks.
Anyway. Philip and I are headed up to Seattle on Thursday (hooray!). Amber and Dani are doing our engagement photos on Friday, I'll hopefully get to see Allie on Saturday, and then we're going to a Superbowl party on Sunday before we head home. Yay! I'm super excited.