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Say what?  OMG, the lessons and expressions I have learned from my new found love of cycling. 

Picture this, I’m newly single and I get set up with a hot man. He’s got a love of all things fast and is an avid cyclist. Me well I’ve been an athlete my whole life, so bring it on bitch. So before long, it’s decided that one of the things that we can do together is cycle. I mean I’ve ridden a bike my whole life, how hard can it be? Oh Maria Maria Maria, you naïve little girl.   

Soon we find ourselves at the Trek store and I am being custom fitted for a bike. I mean a bike? I understand a ball gown or a wedding dress or shoes, but a bike? Lesson one of the many lessons that I have learned. If you want to ride with the big boys you have to have a custom made bike. Well thousands of dollars later, I am set. I got me a big girl bike. Its custom sister and its even pink (some things I cannot compromise on). I have Kevlar tires (big deal apparently) and even my seat aka saddle is custom. Seriously I sat on this gel thingy that took an imprint of my ass. At that time you have no idea how much I wished I had done just a few more squats, because when I got up and looked at my impression I was like “that is not my ass”.  But I digress, it indeed was my ass and from that rather embarrassing mold came the most comfortable saddle I have ever put my butt on.   

So we leave the store and set out for our first ride the next day. The day dawns promising sunshine and perfect riding weather. We get all decked out. Kits on (cool name for cycling gear) and go down to set up our bikes. Me I am finding it hard to walk because it feels like I shit my pants!!! Have you ever worn riding shorts? They have some mother fucking padding between your hooha and it makes it feel like you have shit yourself when you are walking in them. But guess what? That padding has a purpose!!! And I have come to grow very fond of that shit in my pants feeling. The bigger the better! 

What seems like an eternity later we are ready to start. Food in check, water bottles filled, tools in place and route planned. I mean seriously don’t you just get on and pedal? I still laugh at my naïveté. 

Now I have to admit I am getting a bit nervous. I am with an avid cycler, he’s hot and I want to show him I can do this. We are in his driveway ready to roll. I clip in my first pedal. Seems easy right? I then clip in my other shoe…. And then I knew I was in trouble. See the driveway has a bit of an incline and I was at the bottom, both feel clipped in and NO momentum. Picture this, me in a designer kit, killer bike, and slowly tipping over. Bike and all. So it took me all of 30 seconds to fall over, not even get out of the driveway and skin my knee. I’m trying to look all calm and sexy as I am twisted up, leg bleeding and diaper shorts riding up my ass. Lord let me be a witch and twinkle my nose to get out of this.   

But no such luck, what do I get? Laughter, a helping hand up and a valuable lesson. Maria you have to have some forward momentum before you clip both feet in. If not you will fall over and you are not fast enough yet to stop yourself from falling and unclipping your feet. Not fast enough? Me? Fucking Speedy Gonzales?  You’re going to eat those word buddy.  

Oh me oh my, I am but a little competitive. Well this story doesn’t end with me kicking my man’s butt as I envisioned the wind at my back and me whooshing by him, instead, as we finally got out of the driveway and started to ride, I got shit out the back. In layman’s term. I got left behind, ate his dust, bye bye bird, sayonara and all that jazz. Bitch couldn’t keep up. Apparently a chicken has to carry her own feathers. And the affectionate term for getting so far behind that you can’t keep up and get back with the pack is “shit out that back” 

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But hey, let’s focus on the good. I was 49 and trying a new sport. I was wearing padded spandex. I had to wear what I considered an ugly helmet and had the humiliation of a fall, and I wasn’t even moving when I fell, but I persevered.

So yes I got shit out the back, but I at least had a back to get shit out of. The exhilaration of the wind in your face the speed of the ride, the sound of your labored breathing in your ears, all became music to me. A variety of painful grunts all made for a lovely symphony. 

So I survived my first ride. The embarrassment (I mean I even told him to return the damn bike and I was going in to drink wine as I lay twisted on the ground) and the awful shorts to emerge a new cycling enthusiast.  

God forgive me but I loved it and I love it even more. Cycling has given me great legs, huge adventures, trips of a lifetime and more importantly memories to be made with my most favorite man.   

Oh trust me I have a lot of adventures that I plan on sharing. And if you think that I have none because I know how to ride you are sadly mistaken. I have what I fondly call the black cloud, which follows me in ALL my travels. Makes for funny dinner time stories and for fond memories and even funnier blogs, so stay tuned, because there is so much more to come.  


Four wheels move your body; two wheels move your soul.
Nicola Miller 


To moving your soul. 


Much Love,