Monday: Holiday means relaxing and taking advantage of the continuing beautiful weather. For the second straight day, M and I ride out to Prospect Park in the late afternoon. It seemed like everyone and their dogs were at the park. Don’t get distracted.
We had to get some headshots done for M so taking advantage of the beautiful afternoon lighting was pivotal. We headed over to the bridge overlooking the boat house and snapped some photos.
M is on the job market, y’all. Hire him.
Tuesday: Back to work. Back to biking. This will be a happy third day in a row for me. But it’s no stroll in the park. The commute was a bit rough. No matter how many times I go over those bridges, I always dread them.
The ride home was ewually rough. I had a movie date at 6:30 p.m. to get to. I hustled from East Harlem to Bushwick like I’ve never hustled before. With less than 10 minutes to spare I got home, threw the bike against the wall, dumoed all the bike gear and headed right back out. Cue throw up sounds.
Wednesday: Body. Hurts. Sit bones espcially. Took a break from the bike today. Weirdly felt sad about it. It’s amazing what biking does to you, even in the short term.
Thursday: Another day of no biking on account of an after-work meeting I had to get to in Crown Heights. Despite warnings of delays, the trains ran surprisingly well. Got to the meeting early.
Friday: 55°F? Hell yeah. Bike day!
Got about half a mile from the apartment before I realized my front tire was punctured with a glass nugget.
Sitting at a red light, I took longer than neccesary to go over the pros and cons of biking on the precarious tire. It wasn’t totally flat. Yet. But I don’t know why I thought I could possibly bike another nine miles on it.
I could’ve sarlt on the sidewalk and fixed the flat but I eventually decided that I was close enough to the aoartment and still had enough time to warrant a quick trip back home and catch the train to work. The tire still had some air in it for a gentle ride back and all was dandy on the soft tire until I hit a metal plate. Pfffff! There went all the air.
And my happy feeling with it.
I scooched over to the sidewalk, dismounted the bike, and power walked the rest of the way home. After hoisting my bike up two flights of stairs and shoving it against the wall, I commenced the sad ritual of unpacking my pannier and changing to a less bikey outfit.
All in a huff, I power walked back out the doornand to the train. Adrenaline rush got me queasy.