It was going to be a hot one, and despite my usual love of tropical weather (in fact, I usually love it so much we have told mum and dad that Mayhem's name will be "Pegasus Tropicana Lefmann", they believed me, which is a worry) I am sweltering in the heat of Brisbane at the moment. I decide to run early, getting changed into my running shorts and my Sugoi multisport top I am dismayed to discover that my stomach sticks out the bottom! Rogue strip of white skin escaping! Oh well, I have nothing else so I grin and bear it, running for almost an hour with one hand trying to pull my shirt over my gut. It's a hassle, as it's easily mistaken for pies and beers at this stage.
Anyway, I get home, it's about a thousand degrees and I drink about eight litres of water. Considering my new, MY11 Cannondale Bad Boy (on sale cheap, like budgie) was at home, hanging out in a box, I decided to build it. Which was a great way to waste over an hour in the sweltering heat bent over a bike with only a multi-tool in hand. Seriously, so you know how difficult it is to build a bike a) without a workstand and b)with only a lezyne multi tool to do it with? Especially as the bike features *ahem* state-of-the-art Tektro mechanical disc brakes.
Mechanical disc brakes have been put on the planet solely to piss me and my multitool off. Anyway, it was finally built, complete with sweat, and I got Aido to tighten the bolts when he got home. Surprisingly, despite the discomfort of the whole fiasco, I remembered that I actually liked building bikes. It was a kind of reminiscing. Maybe I'll build shit when I am massive and stuck at home as I cannot get out the door to keep me occupied.
Anyway, took it for it's maiden spin today. A weapon. Literally. That thing is so heavy you could lob it at someone and it would cause spontaneous death. But it was fun. Went up Nebo...well up the first climb up Nebo, along the bike path and engaged in the mandatory commuter wars which occur on said bike path.
I wish it was possible to not take part, but I had just wee'd in a bush and had remounted new bike when a beardy weirdy in neon yellow with panniers and complete with zip ties came up behind me. He waited for the flat to 'put the power down'. I don't really care at this stage, commuter wars are waaay to hard, however it sucks balls when they then turn to take your usual route and you're stuck behind them. Until the hills, where despite being almost 5-months pregnant I can still ride up them at a slow to moderate pace, which is far and beyond that of most super commuters. So despite feeling like a douchebag, you gotta pass them again to stop falling over sideways from moving so slowly.
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| Kinda what I look like...except the bump's more substantial, I would never wear a jersey of that colour OR a skirt on a bike (WTF?) or ride a Madone. Ok, ok....nothing like me, but there's a conceptual likeness, ok!? |
And thus, Commuter wars V2.0 has begun.
PS: I have already identified that to many people riding bikes, machismo gets the better and there is an incessant need to overtake women who ride bikes—even if it means blowing up a minute later. I wonder how much this will intensify with the growth of a bowling ball down my shirt???