I Like Being a Girl

A couple weeks ago I changed out a flat on my bike, but the tube I used was short stem and nearly impossible to inflate. So today I tried to change it out for another tube. After half an hour of struggling with a tire that required I defy eight laws of physics before it would go back on the rim, I found that my new tube wasn’t holding air very well. The next tube I tried was old and burst with a nicely exciting bang when I tried to inflate it.

Had it been a normal two-day weekend, I would’ve been crazy with frustration. So much to do, so little time to spend on bullshit! But with a whole extra day in which to get things done, I took wheel and tire to the bike shop and bought two new tubes. And since I wasn’t up for fighting that tire yet again today, I had the shop mechanic put one of the tubes on for me.

Yes, I wimped out and asked a man to fix my tire. And I wasn’t embarrassed. Not much, anyway. That’s one of the nice things about being female. You don’t lose face when you ask for help with a job that falls into the “manly” category.

Sometimes it’s good to be a girl.

Bike Trainer Meltdown

Well, it's official. My bike trainer is dead.

A few weeks ago it developed a crack in the part that regulates the tension, but I had been finding workarounds that kept things spinning normally. Today, though, the tension crank came off in my hands and the actual spin part would not work properly. It either shrieked or made a grinding sound, neither of which was something I cared to listen to for the duration of a two-hour workout.

So the trainer is dead. Damn it. A new trainer is so not what I wanted to have to buy right now, with all the lease-breaking/house-buying expenses. But exercise and good health are cheaper in the long term, so me and my Visa card will just have to buck up and hit the bike shop.

At least all the little plastic bits that showered out of the dying trainer inspired me to vaccum the bedroom. Small blessings.