to work.

Having a car in the shop is a good reason to ride my bike to work. Before I moved, I used to ride to work regularly. I enjoy the ride to work. I do not enjoy the ride home. It is too hot. I've been bumming rides home off coworkers who live by me and can haul my bike.

Still love this bike. And it still kicks my ass on the inclines.

--AC

two steps back.

Things were going well. I was riding regularly to the gym. I was geting back into cycling and bikini shape. My dad's health is good. But our little dog Lucy passed away after 16+ years.

Another emotional blow. Another increase in anxiety. Another vacation from the bikes.

One good thing that's come of my bike vacations is that I have a lot of time on my hands to make things. So, I've been making bike stands. And selling them.

--AC

forward progress again.

My dad getting sick turned out to be a major set back. It was months before I got back on any of my bikes. I started hiking and lifting weights to compensate. It wasn't the same. Or at least my tan lines weren't the same. I miss my permanent gloves!

I recently started riding my road bike to the gym. It is a quick little 9 mile round trip through the city. It reminds me of riding bikes when I was a kid. It's an adventure. I get to weave in and out of people and avoid getting hit by cars (not a joking matter, but I did that as a kid too.)

I am not clipping in. I changed the pedals on my road bike back to hybrid pedals. I felt it was a necessary compromise. Progress is progress.

Here's a picture from a recent trip:

--AC

failures and set-backs.

We trained. We raised money. We trained more.

Then my dad got sick. Eight days before the Diabetes ride.

He was in the hospital for 4 days. The doctors think he will be okay despite the fact they don't actually know what is wrong with him. I'm still scared shitless.

So. We didn't ride. I couldn't ride. My anxiety was through the roof and I couldn't imagine being on my road bike, clipped-in amongst hundreds of other riders.

This was a failure. One I could not avoid. I am still seeing my therapist for my anxiety ... let's hope this wasn't a major setback.

--AC

into the wind.

We rode the Diabetes Ride route as part of our training. I wasn't prepared for the wind. Somehow we had to ride into the wind for 2/3's of the route.

I'm not kidding. I had wind beating into my chest for what felt like the entire ride. I got angry at one point and tried to figure out how it was possible that I was still riding into the wind... and up hill no less. I can only imagine how I looked to people passing me in cars. I was a pissed off cyclist going 2 miles an hour, up-hill and into the wind. I hope they thought "man, they're hard core."... but I'm sure it was more like "damn, I'm glad that's not me."

It wasn't fun. I did not enjoy. My lips were chapped. My ass was sore. My legs were spent.

But I rode the whole stupid thing. It took three hours. I feel a hundred feet tall right now.

--AC

we train.

We're training for the American Diabetes Association Ride for the Cure in March. Of course, this means I am on my road bike a lot. The progress I made clipping in a month or so a go has been maintained. I feel like I have regained my cycling rhythm. It still feels really good and I don't take it for granted.

We are training for the surprisingly hilly 35mile route. The farthest we'd ever consistently ridden our road bikes was about 25 miles on mostly flat ground, so this is proving to be challenge. On our mountain bikes and my trike we do shorter more intense routes... I like the change of pace.

I've never really ridden a "fundraiser" ride before. This is new. I don't like asking people for money, but a co-workers husband died from diabetes complications last year and I am riding in his name. I am proud of that.

I miss Helga. I've hardly ridden her recently. I think she misses me too. I can see her eyeing me longingly from across the room.

--AC

i clipped in.

In an earlier post I referenced a bicycle accident I had in the summer of 2009. The recovery from that has been long and not so straight forward. I almost lost cycling because it stopped being fun. It was stressful. I was too anxious to ride. 6 months after the crash I got a therapist. A few months after that I got Helga and rediscovered the joy of cycling. However, in the 18 months since my crash I have been unable to clip-in on my road bike.

A few days ago, and at the urging of my therapist, I took the bull by the horns.

It was a sudden realization that today would be the day I clipped in. That was how I thought of it: "clipping in". That described the entire thing. All the anxiety, the turmoil, the struggles. It was "clipping in".

I got my road bike ready. Doubled check the tires. Made sure my spare tube and patch kit were in order. I took a few deep breathes and put my shoes on. This wasn't the first time I'd worn my shoes since the crash. When I ride Helga I clip-in, but it is entirely different on a trike. You don't clip out until you're done riding. This is why Helga is so good for me. On a road bike, you have to clip out every time you stop (unless you're one of those crazy people that can just balance forever on two wheels).

When I first sat down on my bike with my shoes on, I didn't really feel anything. I wasn't thinking about everything that could go wrong, I was just breathing. That was all I heard. Air coming in. Air going out.

I clipped in my left foot and stood there for a few seconds. It felt a little odd, but mostly okay. So I pushed off the ground with my right foot and started down my driveway. Once I hit the street I clipped my right foot in. *click* I love that sound. It's like a baby's laughter or waves at the ocean...  I briefly closed my eyes because I feel such joy... Then my blood started pumping pretty loudly. My street was only a hundred yards long. I unclipped immediately.

I didn't clip my right foot back in until I reached the main section of my ride. About 4 miles of open road. it felt good to really push myself on the road bike. I hadn't done that in 18 months. I felt amazing. Well, at least for the first 4 miles. On the way back, my ass reminded me that I wasn't used to that skinny little seat anymore.

So. I did it. I had a major milestone. I clipped in on my road bike. My therapist actually yelped with joy and clapped when I told her. She is just as emotionally invested in this journey as I am.

It feels good.

--AC

we moved.

It is like cave exploring. Or getting a new toy that you take apart and put back together hundreds of times just to see how it works. Or if you were a cat and your owner got a new refrigerator and you had that HUGE box all to yourself and to make your own...

This is how I feel in my new neighborhood. There are cycling paths everywhere! Not just road bike paths, but mountain bike paths too! Which means there are tons of hiking paths to hurt myself on. Plus, there is tons of room for Helga and I to go safely go exploring. I could not have picked a better home base!

Additionally, I have a new local-bike-shop. I am shy and all weird around new people. I wonder how long it will be until I have the guts to get to know them. I'm going to wager that it will be until my first major bike issue... hehe.

--AC

new ride.

I added a bike to my collection. It is black. It has blue and yellow argyle wheels. The handle bar tape is blue as well. It is my hipster single-speed.

The hunt for a single speed started when I was too scared to ride my other bikes any place I had to lock them up. I was too afraid they would get stolen. My solution to the problem was to get a cheap bike that would suck less if it got stolen.

I decided on a single speed because I didn't already have one. Plus, the nostalgia from my childhood was strong. I did decide to for-go the fixie because I don't like pedaling ALL the time.

After locating the frame and purchasing the wheels, handle bars, brakes and rack separately I had to wait 2 weeks for my bike to be assembled. As much as I fancy myself an uber-cyclist, I do not possess many bike building skills. I am, however, very impressed with my ability to change a flat tire and will tell you in great detail about it whenever I can.

I love the finished product. It is much more appealing to the eye than I had anticipated. And unfortunately, not only does it stand out in a crowd, I am very attached to it because I picked out all the parts and *cough*built it myself*cough*.

So. I spent weeks picking out bike parts. And another few weeks waiting for the local bike shop to assemble everything for me. And now I have another bike I am too afraid to lock up.

Guess that means I need to get ANOTHER bike.

--AC

effortless magic.

I don't name all my bicycles. Really, I've only named one. Her name is Helga. She's my recumbent tricycle. She's sturdy and strong, but won't win any races. She also happens to be my ride of choice lately.

To put things into perspective, I own two other bicycles. I've never had any inclination, motivation or inspiration to name them.  There is just something special about Helga. She gets me.

It's a strange relationship between a cyclist and their bike. Attachment, fondness, and affection develop without warning. Irrational and nonsensical as it is, it sneaks up so quietly it's hard to avoid. But avoidance isn't really necessary. I am content with my relationship with Helga. It's just works. It's effortless. It's magic.

I do realize this all sounds strange. Effortless magic with a bicycle? Yep. You heard me correctly. And I'm okay with you thinking I'm a little weird. Let's be honest, I am a little weird. But in a good way.

--AC

the unknown.

Discovering new cycling routes is a curious hobby for me. I rarely ever ride the ones I discover, yet I have an unquenchable desire to find them. Hundreds of dollars worth of therapy would probably reveal a link to my cycling accident last year. I have an enormous fear of new bike routes. I learned the hardway that the unknown has consequences.

Yesterday I was driving down the road where my crash occurred last summer. The cause of my accident is now surrounded by construction barricades topped with flashing lights highlighting its existence. While I am pleased with this new development, it is coupled with explosions of irritation. My arm broken in two places, sprained neck, and bruised/battered leg could have been avoided with a little pro-activeness by the city. *sigh*

This reaction serves no purpose. It doesn't help my recovery -- neither mental or physical. In fact, it increases my anxiety and prevents me from getting on my bike.  Turns out, avoiding this stretch of road is what is best for my recovery.

I'll continue to plan new cycling routes. I'll continue to ride hundreds and hundreds of miles in my head. I'll continue to hop on countless, imaginary city buses when my legs are tired and the sun is too bright. Right now, cycling in my head is the safest place. I don't crash there.

--AC

oops.

If asked to describe me, clumsiness would probably make the top 5 descriptors used by my friends. I hurt myself doing mundane, everyday tasks. A couple of years ago, I clipped off the tip of my left ring finger using a new pair of scissors. I also pulled my quad muscle trying to stand from a kneeling position. Okay, maybe I'm confusing clumsiness with a "danger to myself".

*scratches head*


Being clumsy does keep life interesting. Without it, I'd miss waking up with a bruise the size of a baseball on my thigh/calf/arm/back and no memory of how it happened. Something that large should have left some sort of memory... Or maybe I'm confusing clumsiness with a very poor memory.

*scratches head*


This is a cycling blog, so what does my clumsiness have to do with cycling? I'm not sure.  I'll keep you posted.

--AC