And the push bike life definitely didn't choose me.
In order to avoid walking this summer, I bought myself a fixie bike from Walmart. Buying a bike from Walmart was probably my first mistake.When I was first riding the bike, I thought I'd just purchased a bike that was single-gearedly trying to ruin my life. It was so difficult to ride, crawling everywhere probably would've been easier and quicker. It wasn't until my friend offered to swap bikes with me for a little bit that I realised I'd actually been conned into buying a bike with a punctured tire. I guess I can rule out becoming a bicycle mechanic as a future career.
Buying a fixie bike with no lever brakes was definitely my second mistake. On my first day on the bike, I nearly cycled directly into a car because there was the slightest of ramps and I hadn't quite figured out how to stop the bike. Instead of reversing the pedals like a normal person would've done, I flung myself off the bike like the amateur stunt woman I'll never be. This was the first time I fell off the bike and it wasn't to be the last.
Okay, I doubt even having lever brakes would've helped that time I cycled directly into my friend and bounced off his wheel onto the floor. Nor would they've helped that time I cycled into a ditch and crashed into someone's mail post. On reflection, maybe purchasing a push bike at all was my actual mistake. My knees have been grated this summer more than a block of cheese.
Even though my bike has let me down sometimes (due a damaged kickstand, it's even let itself down occasionally), I was devastated when I found that a true scoundrel had stolen my bike in the late hours of last Saturday. It's true that you don't know what you have until it's gone.
Luckily, I have been able to 'borrow' a bike from work (who said that two wrongs don't make a right?). Yet I doubt my thighs would agree with the use of the word lucky given they have become a serious victim to an intense level of chafing. I would prefer to think the chafing is because of the wide bike seat rather than all of the second helpings I eat. Although maybe chubby chafe is better than regular chafing because, due to the amount of friction between my legs, I'd definitely be a cycling fire hazard if oxygen could reach the inside of my thighs.
Embarrassingly, in order to minimise the pain from when my thighs touch each other, I'm having to walk like a cowgirl who had too much fun on a Friday night. I'd really like my old bike back before the chafing gets so bad that I end up becoming temporarily immobile and have to genuinely call in sick for work. No one needs to have 'a serious case of chubby chafe' on their personnel file.
Yes, I'm taking the search for a crappy Walmart bike international. Watch out Interpol.