power morning

It's 6.15am. When/how/why did I think it would be a good idea to squeeze in a ride this morning?

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I have some oatmeal mixed with oat bran, ground flaxseed, cinnamon, and a drizzle of maple syrup to start my engine. And coffee, of course.
See you on the flip siiiide...

slippered feet

With bicycles, the more you know, the more you know how much you don't know when you know something's wrong.
At least as applied to me.
"I think it's my bottom bracket," I'll say.
"Um...no...that looks okay. It's your [chainring/freewheel/chain/any other part that is not my bottom bracket]," will be the reply from a trusted mechanic.

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But I'm getting better! I'm attempting to make less clueless stabs at what might be wrong with my bike and trying to insert some logic into my thought processes. So when I realized that there was an incredible amount of play in my left cleat, I actually didn't immediately assume it was my bottom bracket or my headset. I didn't even think it was the chainring! Carefully balanced on a clipless pedal that, even when clipped in, felt like a slippery piece of ice, I reasoned that my cleats were just worn through.
This was cause for worry and concern. I had heard of friends' cleats clipping out mid-climb and with my tendency to really pull up on the pedals, any clipping out would inevitably result in a broken pubic bone or a shattered lady part. That didn't seem like fun. I kind of really wanted to avoid that.

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But I had a fully stacked day ahead of me. Which meant that while I would normally love any excuse to run to a bike shop, it was actually sort of stressing me out. The thought of trying to race through work and get to a shop in time before closing...but if I didn't get new cleats, I was fucked. Crap, crap, crap!
Remember how I said I'm not that good with bikes?

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I got to school and took off my shoe to find...a loose cleat. That was it. A few screws had come loose, enabling the cleat to rotate and feel incredibly unstable. Other than that, my cleats were fine. I mean, sure they're scuffed to pieces, but it didn't look like I would have to sprint to a shop that afternoon.
The screws got tightened down as much as possible with my small multi-tool, then finished off later at home. They're functional now, despite my 15 minute freak out session about how my cleats were worn out and that had to be the problem.
I was wrong, again. But at least I didn't think it was the bottom bracket.

twilight zone

I thought it was hilarious when Representative Barney Frank asked a woman, who compared planned health care reforms to Nazi policies, "on what planet do you spend most of your time?"
In a way, that's not such a rhetorical question when you're in Massachusetts.
I was hoping the crazy was limited to the rare isolated instance that I was just unlucky enough to observe. But unlocking my bike today, I realized how very, very wrong I was. Either that or I'm in some twilight zone or simply going insane. It's getting hard to tell.
Someone please confirm that it's actually 2009. Because when I saw this helmet, I sort of looked around feeling slightly displaced, then had to look at the date stamped onto it one more time. I mean, I know vintage is in, but...really?

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I was sort of still trying to remember what I was doing back in '94 when I ended up stumbling upon the laziest lock-up job I've seen in the past week. It actually made me do a double-take as I initially thought that the cable lock on the left was only looped around the brake cable [it was looped around the handlebars]. Granted, neither bike looked like it was worth stealing, but come on! I feel like I'm taking crazy pills, or something [+100 points if you got that movie reference]!

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And while I'm really loving that stem on the left, that doesn't mean I'm not a different planet. Because the other day, I also parked right next to what had to be E.T.'s new bike. With a seat that low, and upright positioning, the owner of this bike has the shortest legs and the longest torso currently known to man. I was tempted to wait around to see who owned it, but images of a glowing finger pointing at me were sufficient to scare me away [I never liked aliens, even friendly ones].

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It could be the schoolwork, and the hours spent in front of a glowing laptop screen. It could also be the copious amounts of hot water flavored with essence of coffee that I've been voluntarily buying and consuming at school. But this strikes normal, non-Bostonians as slightly fucking insane, right? I'm not the only one who thinks this...right???
Someone please let me know if I'm in some "I am Legend"-esque situation here. And yes I'm dead serious.