Day 56: good bye, bicycle

Today, I went for another double ringer, beginning again with the right. This time, I wove through Chestnut and Maple Ridge. I must say that this trek is getting decidedly easier. It's about time.

I was feeling really lethargic by the time I finished that lap, though. I was really set on making it around the ring another time, but by the time I reached Aspen, I wasn't sure I would be able to do it. Which is pathetic. This should not be so hard.

I decided to meander down to the Dell for some more flat terrain. I coasted down the hill and did a lap between the Dells and then twisted and turned through the sidewalks between the buildings, which was nice. I contemplated going through the woods for my nature ride, because I haven't taken my new bike there yet, but a cop was perched on the side of the road near the entrance to the woods and I didn't want him to yell at me and/or think I was sketchy.

Once I finished the Dell, I told myself that I needed to go around the ring another time. The hill on the left really really took my breath away. I was huffing and puffing my little heart out. I felt lame. By the time I reached the entrance to campus, I felt totally fine and energetic again. I went down and around behind the freshmen dorms again and then down and around behind the gym before deciding to retire for the day.

I kind of wanted to keep going, but I have developed a new and strange sensation: sometimes, my leg will start to hurt, as though it is falling asleep (even though it's not). And then my butt will start to hurt, as well. Not in the "my seat sucks" way (because my seat is awesome) but in the "something is wrong" way. I'm not sure if my circulation is being cut off or what, but it isn't pleasant. I tried shifting my weight several times, standing up to alleviate the pressure, stretching my legs and alternating which foot is extended when I coast, but the phantom pain still remains. It's not unbearable by any means, but it is uncomfortable and worrisome. I may have to look into it if it occurs again.

And.

Today I said a final farewell to my original bicycle - the one I've had for years and years. Goodbye and Godspeed, Roadmaster. You served me well, but I'm on to bigger and better things. Adieu!