posted
A month ago, I signed up for the LA Marathon's bike tour, on grounds that knowing such a thing was in my future I would train and thereby help prepare myself for the rapidly approaching national bike tour.
I, heh, have done absolutely nothing. Not only have I done nothing, whenever I breach the wall I've erected around this event, I break out giggling like a madman -- it's just so ridiculously absurd, I haven't been on a bike since second grade (if then), and now I'm doing a MARATHON on one?
Heh, I'm sorry, I'm just... I have no helmet, no gloves, no flamingly tight pair of ridiculous padded pants... I have nothing but a bike with a painfully hard seat and "racing" handlebars that are too small for my shoulders to rest on for any period of time. I have nothing. And I'm doing a marathon.
Oh, man. Heh. Swear to god, if I survive tomorrow... I have no idea what I'm about to promise, but the only thing that comes to mind is that my butt and crotch are going to be numb for the next six months.
posted
Maybe I'm sadistic, but I want to see pictures of Eddie trying to walk and sit the day after the race.... Posts: 5879 | Registered: Apr 2001
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Okay, as per AJ's orders, I now have bike shorts. For the first time in my life, I'm wishing my shorts were tighter around the crotch -- I'm gonna chafe the hell out of my thighs tomorrow.
And they call this padding? I could get more padding by eating an extra slice of cake.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
Actually, what's really making me laugh insanely is that I don't know how to change gears on my bicycle. They're controlled by some bizarre levers down by the pedals, not the usual thumb-things (which I'm still not sure I understand), so it looks like I'm gonna go through the race stuck in whatever gear the bicycle's currently in.
Oh, man, God does not want me bicycling tomorrow...
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
Uh. Heh. Kacard, if you're going to edit my post, mind telling me what you're editing and why? Given my penchant for going into denial about the existence of this marathon in the first place, I'm afraid my memory isn't recalling what you've deleted/edited.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
And yes, let the nut jokes fall as quickly and painfully as the nuts themselves will -- but before you laugh, won't you please think of all the poor women who won't get to sleep with me over the course of the next year? Won't somebody think of the women?
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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can't email someone who hides their address and I won't repeat what I deleted. Live with it and watch your mouth.
Posts: 780 | Registered: Jul 1999
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Vaseline is your friend. Slather it on everywhere you think you might chafe. Yes, it's messy, but it saves on a lot of discomfort.
I walked the Disney half-marathon on next to no training. I think my farthest training walk had been about five miles. Not only did I survive, but I finished at my goal time. And then I waddled around the parks like Donald Duck for the next week. It's the only time my parents have been able to walk faster than me. Heh.
Posts: 1805 | Registered: Jun 1999
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Actually, Katharine, I'm half-lying -- while I can't remember what I wrote, I don't need to. I copied an albeit slightly altered version to my LiveJournal. And as far as I can tell, you didn't make any corrections at all, which is what really confuses me.
No need to repeat my sin, but could you tell me what you edited?
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
Xnera, that's probably valid advice, but I'm feeling my manhood threatened enough by putting on bike shorts in the first place. If I smear slick crap all over the inside of my shorts, and god forbid I have a stroke or a hookup or am struck down by God (who, by all accounts, seems to be firmly against my participation in the damn thing), and my pants somehow wind up around my ankles, I do not want a sudden discovery of slick sticky liquid smeared all over my crotch.
Plus, if I DID put Vaseline on, I'd feel guilty the entire time I rode. Not for any particular reason, but it'd be like when I wear thong panties and fishnet pantyhose under my pants -- no necessary need to feel guilty, but still, being out among the people wearing unmentionables would make me feel dirty.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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good luck, lalo, that's a gnarly trek. i doubt the chafing will be the biggest of your concerns by the end.
Posts: 3061 | Registered: Mar 2004
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The marathon route passes a block away from here . . . *muses*
Too bad I have other things scheduled. I'm very tempted to stand outside and wait for Lalo to bike past. Posts: 32919 | Registered: Mar 2003
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posted
Holy crap, I can't balance on this bike. I just took it out for my first bike ride in god knows how many years. The handlebars are skinnier than I'd initially judged them to be. My shoulders are too broad for them, trying to ride on the damn things is like trying to ride a parallel pole. There's no way I can balance.
So this is going to be an exciting bike trip...
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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posted
And so I say good night. I have about four hours left until I wake up and panic.
Heh, crap, I'm having flashbacks to my hike up Mt. Chirripo. I don't intend on realizing my existence at this thing until I'm actually at the starting line. Actually, if I can block it out for even longer than that, I'm in luck.
Enjoy your mornings tomorrow, dudes. Make them brighter by thinking how lucky you are to not be me.
Posts: 3293 | Registered: Jul 2002
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If things get rough, just hide out in the Disney Concert Hall. I think they still give out tours every weekend. Posts: 4116 | Registered: Apr 2002
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Actually, Moose, I don't think there is a difference.
They both piss people off, they both think I'm dead sexy, and they both rejected me in the very same thread.
Posts: 5700 | Registered: Feb 2002
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The bike route is not the same as the running route, and doesn't go past here. Which is just as well, I suppose -- the bikers started at 5:55, almost two hours ago.
Posts: 32919 | Registered: Mar 2003
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I'm glad he at least bought the biking shorts. I'm sure I never expected to ever have to tell Lalo "think of your nuts!" in convincing him to purchase a pair. He normally thinks with them way too much!
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Yeah, we should be hearing back from Eddie soon. Actually, the race probably has a web page; we can check on his status there.
Posts: 37449 | Registered: May 1999
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posted
Of course there's a web page! Here's the direct link to the bikers.
OTOH, considering it's been 10+ hours since the bikers started, we better HOPE Eddie's done by now.
Today was the hottest Marathon day in 5 years (one place said in 10 years)! Poor runners! (I saw a lot of heat stroke victims and such being tended by emergency services at about noon, when I walked near the (runners') route.)
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Knowing Eddie he probably isn't back because he is enjoying libations with a woman on each arm, and will show up around midnight CA time and write a rambling semi-coherent post about the experience.
quote:Knowing Eddie he probably isn't back because he is enjoying libations with a woman on each arm, and will show up around midnight CA time and write a rambling semi-coherent post about the experience.
I'm not only looooking forward to it, I'm counting on it. For all his faults, he really has a way with those "rambling semi-coherent post[s]."
I do hope he's made it through the experince in good shape.
Posts: 1295 | Registered: Jan 2003
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posted
I'm now the proud and battered proof that foreshadowing does, indeed, exist in the real world. And that if there are gods out there, they're all spiteful bitches.
Swear to god, I get out of here around 4:30. Going down the street, I get a sudden sense of foreboding, want more desperately than anything to turn around, crawl back into bed, and whimper softly about the unnatural hour. (I should add, I couldn't really sleep last night, and drifted off sometime after 3 AM -- waking up exactly at four to the screeching of Savage Garden pumped up to jet-engine-level decibels, however the **** many those are.)
But of course, I ignore the feeling and go on. I get into downtown, I'm heading down a street (on a sidewalk, because I was an idiot those days long, long ago) and I see the sidewalk ramped by one of those scaffolding beasts, the ones that I have trouble walking through because they're so narrow.
That memory's now etched in my brain. You know how you know you're going to crash before you actually do? You're saying no, no, NO that's a bad idea let's not do it NO NO NO!!! but the voice inside your head that's controlling your body at the moment says hey! let's go through!
I told myself not to go into it, but I did. I told myself not to wobble, but I did. I told myself not to swerve, but I did. Then I started screaming hysterically in my head when the bike folded and hit the ground behind me and I was flying over the handlebars and my foot was tangled in the pedals and oh my god is that a scaffolding running into my face and holy shit did my leg just come off and ow ow OW my arms holy crap I'm still alive?
And I still refused to acknowledge the existence of foreshadowing.
I'm alive, unfortunately, despite my legs looking like the veterans of a decade-long mano-a-mano war against knee-high lawnmowers. But jesus, that made me hobble for a few minutes -- why didn't I pay attention to the signs? To the signs?
The bike marathon was an utter joke. I could've done it in my sleep, if I had a better sense of balance. I was competing against fat men and little girls and white suburban family outings -- in other words, no competition at all. Ridiculously easy. I especially loved motoring up the, what, three hills when other people sighed and complained before even reaching the damn thing about oh! I can't do that, I'll dismount and walk so Eddie can point and laugh at me!
Well, actually, I did remarkably little pointing given the instability of the damn bicycle.
But yeah, I'm hitting the twenty-first mile and I hit a HUGE pothole, just monstrous. I soar, what, two feet in the air and come down HARD on both rims of the hole. I hear a pop. I keep going, but my bike's handling funny and I hear a strange sound in my rear tire. Do I have something caught in the spoke?
I pull over, and look, and hey! It's flat. A few seconds later, so is my front tire. I wave over a cop and he informs me that Acura's a lying bitch and their idea of having repair stations throughout the bike route is having a minivan slowly circle the bike route once. The way he describes it, the thing'll be hours getting to the point where I was, and I wasn't in a mood to wait around, so I picked up my bike and carried it down either Crenshaw or La Brea. I get directions from some asshole telling me there's a bike shop just down Beverly, maybe a half mile -- I walk that way, walk that way, walk that way...
I get to the Beverly Center before I find the thing. With a bike on my shoulder. It's light, but ... And the bike shop doesn't open until eleven (though I read ten at the time)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It's now 1:15 AM, heh. After proclaiming how untired I was, I went on to sleep about eleven hours.
But yeah, I waited around in a horribly expensive and trendy coffee shop for a while, not allowing myself to realize that I was right next to the Beverly Center and could have gotten a better, cheaper meal than a muffin and a 7-Up for $4.
So I leave the coffee shop at ten after 2.5 hours of waiting, find out the bike shop doesn't open until eleven, and sit around in the sun until then. If anything's come of this, I at least now have a decent tan.
I get the old tubes replaced for $20 -- is that an outrageous price? I wouldn't know from experience, but given that I took the bike to a Beverly Hills shop, I'd assume they're charging me at least triple of what I could get at a Mexican shop in East LA -- and finally bike back at top speed. I very nearly killed a little Jewish kid on the way back, but beyond a little wide-eyed stammering, the little dude was okay. Cute little bugger. Made me glad I didn't kill him.
I get back, finally, and find out the running marathon's now going on instead of the bike tour. Ugh. But not surprising. I follow their path for the remainder of the marathon, since I wanted to finish just for the sake of defying God's will, peeling off only at the last 200 feet or so since people were giving me dirty looks for biking through a marathon -- presumably, I was just some asshole out to pretend all the cheering was for me.
I went home from there. Man, what a bad day. Now my right ankle's (as opposed to my left, formerly seriously injured ankle) bruised like a . . . (being the ankle caught in the pedal when I flew through the scaffolding) and when I woke up about five minutes ago I discovered my bottom left eyelid swollen like hell. Not like when I get punched, either, more like an infection -- which, really, worries the hell out of me. Anyone know if a swollen bottom eyelid means anything?
I biked an extra god knows how many miles just to get to the damn marathon and back. I don't even want to imagine how far I carried that bike down Beverly. And while it was nice seeing all the beautiful women and their girlfriends, really, I could've lived without the visit to West LA.
The bike marathon itself was an utter joke, though. Next year, if I'm still in town, I'm running the marathon instead. I could use a challenge.
Aside from a little ass-tenderness, there's no soreness. Really, you people had me all worked up for nothing.
And Rivka, dude! Looked for you from mile 13 to mile 18. I realize you were mistaken about the route, but who can now heal my broken heart?
posted
The lesson here, I think, is to always wait for the van, no matter how slow it's going, because you can't trust bike shops.
Posts: 37449 | Registered: May 1999
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posted
I'm STILL glad you got those biking shorts.
Allow me to lecture. ALWAYS CARRY A SPARE TIRE, TIRE IRONS AND PATCH KIT WITH YOU. Two spare tires are better. If you can't change your own tire you have no business riding anywhere farther away than you can walk home before dark. If you don't learn how you going to be stuck in the middle of nowhere sometime hitchiking and hoping that a truck driver named Bubba isn't an exscaped convict. (remember the rest of the country is a lot like scattered Bakersfields 50 miles away from each other.) $20 isn't actually too bad for a tire change either, especially considering the locale.
Actually given your current track record, hitchicking across the country might be more advisiable than biking.
posted
I did hang around Mile 14 (and just past) for a while. Think I would've noticed someone on a bike . . . Sorry, Lalo, you'll just have to make it to the next Shinda, I guess.
How far is it to LadyDove's? You could bike there . . . Posts: 32919 | Registered: Mar 2003
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