I moved out of Philadelphia before the spring 2013 became real. Since then, I've ridden a bicycle about twice. Less than two miles each time. I've done a fair amount of thinking about bicycles... but not much pedaling.
I couldn't put it off any longer. My bicycle begged me for new
shifters and cables. I got some old Suntour XC Pro thumb shifters at the
swap meet, and resale-value-be-damned, I put them on my own bicycle.
In order to ease myself back into mobility, I set a small loop of a few
miles with rolling hills. Short and sweet. I rode the loop, and got back
feeling like I'd been chased by a vampire.
Riding a bicycle again literally makes me want to puke. I've grown incredibly weak and slow, but my brain forgets. My brain yells "PUSH!," and I do. Minutes later, my stomach gets annoyed because it can't talk.
I rode the same loop today, and the first thing I noticed is that my
buns hurt where they meet the saddle. Right. I have a thousands-of-miles
broken-in Brooks saddle with springs - and my butt was a tad sore.
I intend to get back into reasonable
shape. I don't need to be the Tarzan of bikes, but I'd like to stand up
and assault some hills again some day. That's the goal here.