Learnin' to Bike

Here I am, 47 years old, and never been much of an athlete. And now I've signed up to ride my bicycle from Houston to Austin over two days in April, 2004. Sure, I've known how to ride since I taught myself in my early teens on my Aunt Pat's bicycle one summer. I used to ride in circles around our house and neighborhood, listening to the Astros on my transistor radio ear bud all summer long. But this is RIDING, like Lance Armstrong does. At least as much like Lance Armstrong as I'll get (I don't think I want to go through a bout with testicular cancer to get where Lance is now).

I've had my present bike since 1999, when I purchased it because my wife, son, and daughter all bought bicycles. I thought I deserved one too, not exactly the best reason. It's a Diamondback touring bike, with the shock-absorber padded seat and straight handlebars that allow you to sit up comfortably and ride, rather than bend over a set of handlebars that look like Ram's horns. 18 speeds, with a rack on back to hold stuff.

So after spending about $400 on that bike, I've riden it about 5 times in the ensuring years. I kept airing up the tires, wiping off the dust, and spraying WD-40 on the rust spots, thinking "I should ride my bike tomorrow" and never doing it. But now I've committed my registration money and I've announced as publically as I can that I'll be riding the MS 150. So I have to do it, don't you think?

See you,
Dustin