Now that my road bike is in the garage, my hybrid Gary Fisher bike is in the trainer. I love my hybrid bike. I know the gears without thinking, it has "shocks" so it bounces in a fun way, and the sofa seat is comfy.
But because it's been in the shed for the whole winter, Gary is a bit dirty. Really dusty. A better owner, one who cared about Gary, would have at least wiped him down before confining him to the basement. It's like telling your husband that he has to take you to a fancy dinner, without allowing him to shower after a day spent laying sod.
There's one particularly dirty spot. It's on the top of the frame and the three cables that run the two shifters and rear brake run down it.
As I pedal, and especially when I speed up during my "fast" intervals, I stare at that spot. My head is down, I'm concentrating on my breathing, trying not to think about how my legs are burning. The more I stare at the spot, the more it bothers me.
Well, it did bother me. Until I figured out a way to clean it.
You see, the more I pedal, the more I sweat. As the sweat falls off my forehead, I start playing "Bomb the dirt," aiming for that spot.
I'm sure I look like a total dork, bobbing and weaving to line up my dripping forehead, nose and chin so that my sweat will clean the spot.
But who cares? No one is watching.
No comments:
Post a Comment