So, I'm the first to admit that I'm not a great bicyclist. Running, that's my thing. Biking, it's a way to get from place to place without using gas, all the while getting a little exercise.
So I started up again a couple months ago, one or two days a week, and I was pretty rusty. Labored breathing and straining muscles up a tiny hill; sore butt after a short ride, all that. But I've felt like my muscles having been responding recently, getting into bike-riding form for me.
I was pumping along up a hill, a gear or two higher than normal, going pretty quick, barely breathing hard, thinking to myself, "Man, I'm getting good at this."
At precisely this instant, a 106lb sorority girl on a pink banana seat bike, tramp stamp showing between her ultra-low rise jeans and x-small belly shirt (which also managed to barely conceal her size D breasts), idly combing her hands through her thick mass of perfect blonde hair, flew past me (hands free), without even a flush to her cheeks. In the street. Without a helmet.
Well fuck me. Whatever, her Daddy bought her an expensive bike, I'm sure. Sorority girl and all, you know how they are. I've got my 6 year old $50 Target bike. It's the inefficiency of the bike. I'm sure of it.
A ridiculously large man, butt crack and love handles proudly exposed, sped past me next. I'm sure it's easier to pedal when you've got the weight behind your thrusts...right?