So this evening as I drove through a neighboring town I spotted what I THOUGHT was a woman in a wheelchair having issues maneuvering her way out of a baseball field, something along the lines of not being able to fit through the opening in the fence or the electric wheelchair didn’t have enough get up and go to get through the gas.

So, being a concerned person I pulled over to fully assess the situation.

What I saw?  A brown leather recliner on wheels, motorized wheels.

After I stopped checking to be sure I still resided on the same planet as always I checked the status of the recliner woman.  She was on her way down the road and I knew I had to get a picture.  I knew it.

What I didn’t know is I’m far too polite to obviously snap a picture.  So, after circling the block a few times and getting crap photos I finally managed to snap this picture.

sorry kids, it's there.... just tiny

I totally fail at being a secret agent.  I’d have to ask someone before kidnapping them or leave an apology note for stealing sensitive documents.

Anyway.  I hit work out 137 this morning at Curves, came home and ate breakfast and then set out to do my scheduled 10 mile ride on my bike.  My first bit took me around the path in the park where I’ve been going to jog.  It drives me nuts not knowing how far around it is.  Turns out it’s 1.33 miles.  Random but nice.

Then I took my normal route out of town and braved my way through some incredible winds.  I don’t know if they were stronger than Wednesday or if my legs were just more tired.  All I could say to myself is that it would all be better as soon as I was able to turn around.

Before?  Back in the day?  I’d have called off a ride for wind like that.  Today I cursed the wind, dropped a gear, kept going and quietly enjoyed the burn in my glutes.  Other muscles were burning, yes… but I sort of love feeling the fire in my backside.

Afterwards I took my bike for a tune up.  I’ve owned the this bike for something like 8 years now and I haven’t had a tune up.  I haven’t used it much after the first year but still, it’s shifting like crap.  Earlier this week I called Rockford Bicycle Shop to make an appointment, but they essentially said they don’t make appointments.  So I went through the debacle of putting the bike rack on my car (luckily it’s the sort which can stay on for the duration without hindering me in any way) and headed on up to the shop.

It’s a nice place.

I disliked the guy who took my bike from me.  He essentially asked me questions in a vernacular I didn’t understand and then looked at me as though I were stupid when I couldn’t answer.  Oh, I went on to describe the nature of my problem and he went on to describe to me how to properly shift gears.  I informed him I’m not a complete idiot, only a partial one… you know, while cracking a smile…. making a joke… He got this vacant look in his eyes and completely ignored me.

Fine.  Ok.  You know more about bikes than I do.  Obviously, you’re the one working the bike shop, guy.  I bow to your superior power.  Now, just take my 50 bucks and fix the darned thing.  Thank you.

I get to pick it up tomorrow.  Can’t wait to take it out.