Sunday, October 11, 2009

We used to talk about boys with missing spines

Sunday, October 11, 2009
I can handle it. Except I can't. Handling's not my thing. I can ride pretty hard, fetchingly fast, for reasonable amount of time. I can certainly go faster than you. Provided I don't have to turn. I know. It's fucking tragic, right? I make myself out to be this big cycling guy, but I lack the only attribute outside of balance that is necessary to ride a bike, viz, the ability to steer. Steering, handling, not my things.

I'm getting better though. I finally counter steer. Like a patient elder step-brother quietly pointing out the booger hanging from his reluctant charge's nose, Mr M took me aside and gave me the low down. Counter steering. But of course. Pretty fucking obvious to anyone with even the most basic grasp of gyroscoposity. But not to the Gimme. I am, as I may have mentioned before, a physical, a physics dolt. My hate hate relationship with the world around me extends not just to the constant dropping, bumping into and breaking of stuff, but also to my inability to negotiate even the widest of bends at anything above a crawl. I have to get back to running. Straight lines. Self-inflicted anguish. Beating a tiny section of the word into momentary submission. No skill, no flair, just the monotonous grind. Monotonous grinding. Grinding monotony. These are the talents in which I am well versed.

12 Johns and Janes for the comment whore:

Fat Sparrow said...

"but I lack the only attribute outside of balance that is necessary to ride a bike, viz, the ability to steer"

Cheer up, you're still doing better than me. I can't balance. Never could. And I stop by running in to things.

Back in 1985, I wanted one of those Honda Aero scooters really, really bad, as they were really trendy, and when I told my parents I was saving up my money from working to get one, they laughed so hard they cried, and then after that I had to turn my paycheck over to them.


Manuel said...

I lent my bike to my bikeless I have no there anyone that will lend me their bike? is there fuck....

problemchildbride said...

If you can't run with flair, don't let it get you down. Try running with flares. The exhilaration of the wind flapping at your trouser'll be a new man.

laughykate said...

Last week my brother came off his bike at 74 ks. He wasn't as injured as he was when he came off his bike at 35ks four months ago (he's still healing). He's a mental.

I love my cruiser.

Ten bucks says I get run over by a bus. Again.

gimme a minute said...

Fat Sparrow:
Lesson learned. Never tell your parents anything. Are you listening Bridge Crew?

For shame! You can borrow Hardcore Motherfucker. She has a basket now. Get the train down, ride back up.

Aerodynamics be damned,eh? I look ridiculous enough in my bike tights.

Gimme Insurance Corporation will take that bet. You're pre-existing laughy condition is of no concern to GIC. Until you actually get hit by the bus, that is.

Rosie said...

this is a metaphor, right?

Medbh said...

If those bike tights made my hips look as slender as Mr. M's I'd never take them off.

He said they were freezing and miserably cold in the mountains yesterday.

Medbh said...

Fuck's sake.

Scratch that.
They were freezing and miserable would be more to the point.

Manuel said...

I'm not really I'm not....imagine my ass sweat on your bike....go on imagine it.....horrified eh...

Conan Drumm said...

I have a fear of loose shit on the bends... I can see it all happening in slo-mo - losing traction... rotating through the centre as the wheels flatten forwards... introducing my left side, from ankle to ear, to the abrasive qualities of gravel - so I maintain a slow, stately verticality.

fatmammycat said...

I only learned the phrase 'straight line running' today. 'parrently squash ain't.

gimme a minute said...

It is now.

My life as unpaid cab driver is keeping me off those climbs. Beginning to sound like a good thing.

Not remotely. You had a Kona before me. Covering you in Kona kudos.

And we could always change the saddle.

Wet leaves. They'll fuck you up if you even spell "corner".

Different muscles. Stupid fallible body.

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