My bike is a constant reminder of my own mortality. I want to ride every hour of the waking day, but after a month of riding, just an hour turns me into a sweating, out-of-breath, pathetic mess. My body is covered in more bruises than Johnny Knoxville, and even small things like stepping off my bike or falling correctly results in sprains, cuts, and contusions. When I was in my teens and early twenties, none of this happened, and I could ride for 6-8 hours without pause. I’m having the time of my life riding and re-learning everything though.
My hope is to someday get a sponsorship from Advil. That’d be the life.