| Minus | Plus |
|---|---|
| My legs don't feel nearly as strong as they did earlier in the season. | I'd still rather ride than jog. |
| I had to come to a full stop twice for the same school bus (in accordance with my status as a vehicle), which had its flashers on and its stop sign out. | I grinned and rolled my eyes at the driver, and he cracked up. And the kids cheered me on as they disembarked. |
| Some of the cheering sounded like "Get a car, old man." | At least they weren't confused by my "mannaries" and got my gender right. |
| One woman pulling out of her driveway looked right at me and kept creeping forward, seemingly intent on making me stop for her. | Because she was looking right at me, I was able to convey, by adept employment of pantomime, that I was fit'n ta go all Texas Chainring Massacre on her driver-side door. She stopped. |
| The seam of the cheap-ass chamois in my new Bellwether shorts chafed the heck out of my right thigh. | Fortunately, it was worst when I was walking, and at least it wasn't The Boys that got rubbed the wrong way. And I now know what kind of shorts not to buy in the future. |
| At 17.9 miles and an average speed of 16.8 mph, it wasn't the memorable sort of ride to which I'd typically devote blog space. | This posting should reassure Slow Joe Recumbo, who was starting to wonder if I would ever post anything about cycling again. |
Now playing: Rob Dickinson, Fresh Wine For The Horses
3 comments:
You need to attach bull horns to the front of your bike. I bet that car wouldn't have hesitated to stop then. ;)
I just love your humor. :)
You know, pantomime really is making a comeback, and I for one am glad about it. No more useless words. It's like one big game of charades. And I kick ass at charades.
BTW, I believe Aunt Fanny is Tibetan, but I can't confirm. ;o)
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