Last year my husband bought me a bike for birthday. At the time I was on this crazy fitness kick, somehow thinking that if I peddled around my neighborhood a few times a week that my body would magically morph into Mila Kunis.
Turns out, that is not so.
Biking is hard, dude. While it maybe true that you never forget how to ride a bike, it doesn't mean you won't always be an awkward mess that resembles a drunken school kid trying to ride in a straight line.
But nonetheless I would ride my bike up and down the streets of Timberland Estates. In order to limit the humilitation of being seen in public I started riding my bike after dark. But I rode that bike that it was my job.
As you can probably guess I fell off of the bike bandwagon pretty quick once winter came around and my precious cruiser sat in the garage tucked to the side. Sometimes she would catch my eye and I'd mutter something about needed to get back on that, but the weather was cold, or I was tired, of the kids needed to eat dinner and it was quickly forgotten.
I've been a total slacker about exercising lately. Totally eating like there won't be any consequences. Cake, brownies, hamburgers, french fries, name it and I've scarfed it down with a large diet coke. Well yesterday we had some extra time in the evening right after the kids' bedtime so I opened the garage door and pulled out the old girl for a spin.
Just as I was about to jump on my neighbor drives up to her house. Instead of going about my business like a sane person, I decide to push the bike down the street a little further to avoid any awkwardness.... Because looking like some shady weirdo bicycle theif running away is NOT awkward at all. I'm a smarty, I tell ya.
So I finally get to a place out of sight and hop on. I notice that it's a little harder to pedal than I remembered, but chalk it up to one too many chicken nuggets on the couch in front of an episode of Toddlers and Tiaras. I continue to push through down my street further and further, but man am I really breaking a sweat now and my legs are burning. My fat ass is sliding off the seat and it's pushing into my babymaking parts (and not even in a good way).
This shit is starting to hurt!
At this point I'm clenching my teeth and practically having a heart attack in the middle of the intersection when I look down and notice that the stupid effing wheels have no air. What a #*%&#$@)!#* idiot I am.
Now I have run a half marathon, I have hiked up and down mountians, I have birthed two babies, but that bike ride was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. I would have called my husband to have him come pick me up but I left my phone at home. I would have left that stupid bike on the road but I'm too cheap to do that.
I hate that bike.
