1 February 2001
Last year: It turned out to be an even more emotional event than I thought it would be.
Holy cow. It's February already. I need to get cracking on Matt's Valentine's present!
So yesterday at work was relatively slow. Random and I cleaned out what will be our new office, and after we returned to our current office, he said, "Why don't we move our stuff over today?"
"Because," I answered, "if we move all our stuff today, then they'll make us help move other peoples' stuff tomorrow."
"Oh. Always thinking ahead, that's you. I thought we'd just get to goof off."
So we goofed off for the rest of yesterday, instead.
Even after the walk through the fresh air back to our suite, my head was still spinning from the fumes of Windex, 409, and the special cleaner we'd used on the whiteboard. ("How To Get High At Work - Legally!")
And so I did a silly thing. I fired up Trekbikes' website, and had them locate local stores for me.
And then I called one of the stores.
I talked to a friendly fellow by the name of Dave, who was neither put off nor patronizing about my confessed lack of recent experience and weight. He answered several questions forthrightly, agreed that he thought I'd picked the right bike for the job, and suggested I come in and take a test ride - they had a back entrance to the parking lot and let customers "test drive" before they bought.
So after Matt got home, I impatiently gave him almost an entire forty-five minutes to unwind from a trying day at work, and then dragged him out to the bike shop with me. (Okay, that's not quite true. I did give him the option of staying home.)
I was a little intimidated when we walked into the store. Bikes everywhere. And where there weren't bikes, there were accessories for bikes.
Dave was there, along with his apparent partner, Patty. Dave remembered speaking to me (well, how many calls can a bike store get in a single day from fat chicks who haven't owned a bike in fifteen years?) but suggested I speak with Patty, as she was the "pleasure-rider" of the duo.
Patty was, if anything, even nicer than Dave. I explained my predicament - after all, I haven't seriously ridden a bike since I was half as old as I am now - and half the size, if it comes to that. I tried to explain that I really wanted to look at this as an activity, rather than exercise. She interrupted me with, "Well, of course! When we were kids, we didn't worry about exercise - we just had fun!" I think she won me right there.
I told her which model I was thinking of. She pulled it out of the intimidating banks of racks. It was much shorter than Kris' bike, with the "girl" bar I prefer to the mostly-straight "boy" (or now, Patty tells me, they call them "unisex") bars a lot of bikes have. She showed me how the handlebars adjusted, and led me out the back door into the parking lot, where I rode around in circles and played with the gears. (My previous bike was of the old one-gear-pedal-backwards-to-brake variety.)
And... I liked it. Oh, yes I did. The lower frame and adjusted handlebars eliminated the problem I'd had on Kris' bike, and even let me sit almoststraight up.
Patty told me if I wanted, I could take the bike home with me immediately.
I almost did it. I almost bought it right then and there.
If we'd taken Matt's van, I might very well have. But I'd need a bike rack to get it home with my car. And I wasn't sure if I wanted to buy a bike rack, even the relatively inexpensive $60 one. On top of a helmet and a light for evening riding and a good lock, I had to stop and think.
Do I need a bike rack? How often am I going to want to take my bike somewhere else to ride it, at least at first? For $400 worth of bike and accessories, I thought I should sleep on it anyway. So I didn't buy the bike.
But I'll go back for it. With Matt's van, or with Braz or Kris (who have bike racks already) to help. It's a beautiful shiny cherry-red Trekbike Navigator 200, and it's going to be mine, all mine!
I feel like listening to a little Queen just now...
"Fat-bottomed girls,
[We] make the rockin' world go 'round!
Get on your bikes and ride!"
On the way home from the bike store, Matt and I found ourselves driving behind a nice Mazda convertible with the license plate GFTOFGD.
We deciphered it at about the same time. "God's getting more generous all the time," Matt said.
"'Lord, won't you buy me a Mercedes Benz?'" I sang.
We drove behind them for another minute. "Maybe they won it in a church raffle," I pondered, just as our paths diverged.
I woke up last night at about 1:15 with another one of those burning-crampy-things. I was glad I'd put the bottle of Tums on my nightstand. I fumbled out a couple of them and curled into a ball to wait it out. The longest "attack" so far has been about fifteen minutes.
At nearly 2, with no end in sight, I took another couple of Tums. I accidently woke Matt with an involuntary whimper. Being the sympathetic, wonderful person that he is, he curled himself around me to give me love and sympathy, if not relief from the pain.
I almost snapped at him, sure that his jostling would make things worse. But they didn't. And after a minute, the heat of him (I swear, his body temperature goes up when he's sleeping) soaked into my back. I hadn't even realized my back had tensed from the pain until the tired muscles began to relax into the warmth. Three minutes later, the pain was fading.
Was it the Tums? Or does love really conquer all? I may never know, but whatever it was, I'm grateful.
I've got an appointment with my doctor today at 2. I hope he'll be able to tell me what this is and how to stop it.
I can't have it interfering with my bike riding, can I?
Word of the Day:
Gesundheit - used to wish good health, esp. a response to a sneeze
Currently Reading:
- The Macintosh Bible by Sharon Aker
- Taliesin by Stephen Lawhead
Current Projects:
- Kris' afghan
- placemats