Son…in…a…Ditch!!!!!

You like bikes? You know, bicycles? Two-wheeled harbingers of fun and relaxation. What fun it was to ride them as kids. My cousins and I would ride all around their neighborhood for hours on end. That was our transportation. It was fun. Exercise, without realizing you were exercising. Those were the days.

We grow up though, don’t we? We get other modes of transportation, easier ways to get from here to there. But the memories remain, and it’s never the same.

Wait, the is about failures, right? Why in the world am I talking about bicycles? Well, fellow reader, let me tell you a little more about myself. You see, I am not in the best shape in the world. I am healthy, however, I have gained some weight since high school…then college…well, let’s just say I’m not my ideal weight. I am working on it, and eventually will get there, but for the sake of our good times here, let us see where I was at this point in my life.

I wanted to lose weight and have fun (don’t we all?) so I began to think to myself, “Self? What is the best way to do this?” I decided on buying, you guessed it, a bicycle. I was around 35 or 36 at the time I believe…I honestly don’t know for sure (old enough to know better though). I wanted a decent bicycle, but I wasn’t going to spend a fortune on one. I mean, I am a teacher. I have a truck at the time. This is just for exercise and reliving those glorious days of riding my bike everywhere.

I visited one of the local ‘We Have Everything You Need’ establishments, sorted through my choices, and decided on the good looking, bluish, pre-assembled model that ‘We Have Everything You Need’ was having a sale on that weekend (impulse buys are bad for you fellow reader). I loaded this item into the back of my truck and brought it home, proud of my purchase and my new journey into “fitness.”

Now before I talked about my first, and only, trip on this immaculate ‘chariot of fire’, let me first express my thanks and gratitude to the fine person that worked at the establishment I bought it from. You, sir or mam, deserve a raise. Your fine attention to detail and craftsmanship during the construction phase of my bicycle can not and will not go unnoticed. You crafted a very fine floor model that caught not just one, but both of my eyes. The chain was put on just right. Pedals were sturdy. Seat was not as comfy as I remember growing up. Matter of fact, bicycle seats have a ton of room for improvement on their design. No one has an ass that small, I assure you. Nevertheless, you effort and time in the assembly of my new bike was appreciated and your hard work shows me that you care about your job.

It was around lunch that I decided to start my journey to ‘ultimate fitness.’ I walked to the backyard and admired my newly acquired ‘Stallion’ from afar, thinking to myself “Self, we are about to do this!” I jumped onto my noble steed and immediately realized that this was a young man’s game. I used to be able to ride for hours. This seat just isn’t comfy at all…ahhhhh, that’s why we stood when we peddled!!! Biking on grass is just tough too…holes, dirt, etc….ahhhhh, that’s why we used our bikes on the road!!!

I took my bicycle to the road and began my journey. I had calculated my route the night before and knew from my house to the stop sign down the road and back was about 1 and a quarter mile. This would be a good starting point for someone who breathes heavy going up one flight of stairs. I can do this! I used to do it all the time!

I had not even gotten to the first stop sign yet (2 total) and noticed a difference in my breathing pattern. I could not stand on the pedals for long because my body was saying to me, “take a seat man, what are you doing?” therefore, my ass was hurting because the only seat was that narrow little sliver of padded foam on a board they call a seat. I was not having fun…but I continued on.

Did I make it to the 2nd stop sign and back? Sadly readers, I did not. Did I make it even halfway? I would like to say I did, but I would be lying to you. How far did I make it you ask? I’m really not sure. I made it to a white house that is down the road after two big curves before I got off and re-evaluated my life decisions. I stood in the shade, standing beside my bike actually wondering if I could make it back home. I could walk back sure, but I just bought this bike. I’m not leaving it…and I will make it home on this bike, even if it kills me…

I told myself, “Self, we are making it home…on this bike…one way or another!” At this point, I would like to say that I jumped on my bike, pedaled hard, and made it home, the end. Instead, I’ll tell you what really happened.

I did not jump on the back. My ass was in pain from the seat, and I could not jump at all. My body hurt. How out of shape am I? Sheesh!!! I gently got back on my bicycle, pointed in the direction of home. The two curves I had to go through are uphill…so I needed as much strength and speed as I could muster. I started pedaling. I was in pain, but I was moving forward and making progress. The wind started blowing. I went on a little downward slope and felt at ease. Am I actually starting to have fun? I think when you hit a wall and keep going, something inside changes and you feel like you can do things you thought you couldn’t. I was still pedaling! I hadn’t stopped yet and it started getting easier! Maybe this would work.

I approached the two curves that were uphill and was still going strong. Made it past the first one and needed to go through the second and I would almost be home. I needed more speed. I needed more strength. I stood up on the pedals and my body provided the strength I needed! I knew I could do this.

I can’t remember the words I said in the following moment, but I can assure you that they weren’t PG, or even PG-13. What I do know, is that I am glad I did not meet the fine human who assembled my noble steed that dreadful day of its’ purchase. I also know that my 35-36 year old body doesn’t handle sudden falls well. And, fellow readers, I know that when you are pedaling hard and standing up to apply more speed and strength, you better make sure that the handle bars are securely attached to your bicycle.

The handle bars bent all the way down first. The screw wasn’t tight and they just rolled all the way down. All my weight was on them. I was concerned. In a panic, I pulled up and the handle bars actually came off in my hands. At this point, I did not know what to do, and a ditch was fast approaching. My finely tuned bicycle decided that’s where we were going, and who was I to tell it any different, for I had its handle bars in my hand, not able to adjust our direction. We hit the ditch together pretty hard. I am pretty sure I flipped over where the handle bars used to be and I tucked and rolled. Only my pride seemed to injured (and my bike) as I evaluated myself. I got myself out of the ditch and walked back home, with my bike (which took a while because I couldn’t steer it). Upon getting home, I threw the bike with the energy I had left, as hard as I possibly could, into the concrete under the shelter, never to be ridden again.

At some point, months later, I repaired the handle bars. I put the bicycle on Craigslist. I sold the bicycle. I made someone’s child very happy. I also gave the person the disclaimer that the bicycle had been in one collision with a ditch, but it was repaired and should be fine. I did not make a profit, nor did I want one. I just wanted it gone, and gone it was. If you can take anything from this, please make sure if you buy a bicycle, make sure everything is tight and fully functional before you ride. Also, do not call me to go riding with you, tell me how fun it is, or attempt to sway my decision about bicycling. I am over it and am totally fine with the memories of what it used to be…not the memories of what it did to me later in life!

And to the employee who assembled my death trap…on that day…you could kiss….my….

Thanks for reading!