Cycling

I came up with so many good and different blog ideas today. Where did they go? Hell if I know. But here's something I wrote in my daybook in my teaching of literature class (paying attention isn't worth my time much of the time).

"This morning, I rode my bike to class. It was a rather over-zealous endeavor to save money and not hurt the environment. I hadn't been on a bike that wasn't stationary for what feels like ten years. Hell, for all I remember it may actually have been that long exactly.

It was cold. Uncomfortably cold. My lungs burned in icy labor the entire way. Snot threatened to spray from my nose and my ears stung from propelled wind. The seat was adjusted for a 6'4" man and I felt like a child every time I clamored off of it at an orange hand..

Later in the day as I looked out a floor-to-ceiling window of the student center, grey clouds were crowding a not-so-distant expanse of the sky. "Fuck." A thirty-minute bike ride in forty-five-degree weather was miserable enough without perpetual drenching."

All 100% true. It didn't rain, thank goodness but my crotch...oy it hurts. It doesn't quite help that last night in the mall I took a jump on the bungee trampoline (because it was my birthday and I do what I want). The harness strapped around my waist and my inner thighs. While being sprung about 100 feet up into the air was the most fun I've had in a long time, it didn't do my fragile flesh any favors.