the five humiliations

For a few months now, I've been wanting to ride my bike to work. My parents had my old racing bike shipped out to me last summer, and it's been sitting in the shed, waiting for me to find time to ride it. A few weeks ago, I did the paperwork to get a code for the bike lockup area in the parking garage at work, and the code came yesterday, so I was all ready to become a bike commuter. This morning I put on some shorts -- some short, jogging shorts (Humiliation #1). Sean pumped up the tires on my bright pink racing bike. Maple got her four hugs and three kisses, and mama was ready to go.

So picture this. I'm in my super short shorts, pink long sleeved shirt, with my big marmot backpack on and a dorky bike helmet. I'm walking the bike out to the street, because it seemed very wobbly on the gravel in the driveway, and I didn't want to wipe out before I got to the street. I thought I noticed that the seat seemed very high and the handlebars seemed quite low, but I figured it was all set right, since I'm the only one who ever rides the thing. (Humiliation #2 -- I didn't realize that in the packing and shipping and reassembling of the bike, that it may have been adjusted to fit, I don't know, a midget gorilla.)

I got out to the street and prepared to get on the bike. The right pedal was in the down position, so I swung my leg over, stood on the pedal, and pushed off with my left leg. I was extremely wobbly, so I stopped and started again. Keep in mind, the last time I was on a bike, all the connections in my brain were intact. My balance is somewhat off these days, and I frequently have to correct course when I find myself walking too close to a wall. Anyway, I started again in the same manner, and this time I got going a little. And now it all gets a little fuzzy.

I remember that I was trying to get my butt onto the seat, and it didn't seem to want to get up there. I remember thinking, "I guess the seat is too high?" And just then I started veering uncontrollably off toward the ditch in front of our house. My front tire hit the grass, and time slowed, and I thought "I guess I'm going down." I went into the ditch and crashed into the newly mulched area (Humiliation #3), hitting my elbow and finger on the wood barrier. I did get a close-up view of that new mulch though, and it looks awesome. Ah, the sweet feeling of mulch on my cheek.

I got up, brushed myself off, and walked back into the house. I told Sean that I'd need a ride to work, because I'd already wrecked the bike. (Humiliation #4). I even got a little teary as I told him what had happened. As I was changing out of my riding clothes and into my work clothes, I found a big scrape on my elbow. (Humiliation #5). I guess my balance is a little worse than I thought. So you know what they say about riding a bike? That you never forget? Well, apparently that doesn't hold for those of us with incurable degenerative brain diseases.

So I've recovered somewhat and did finally make it to work... with the aid of a motorized vehicle and a sweet husband who hydrogen peroxided my elbow. I'm scheduled to go kickboxing tonight. Humiliation #6, perhaps?