Earth keeps on spinnin'

We are in like Flynn. Owen and I are renting an adorable cottage in Old Southeast. Smack between the ghetto and the fancy houses... hence the affordable rent. We have a HUGE backyard that I hope to fill with my friends sometime soon (the puppies already adore it), as well as several tire swings and a clothesline as I love my freshly hung laundry. Things between us are tense, as we're dealing with condensing our life from a 3 bedroom house to a one bedroom cottage. I'm not home as much as I used to be, considering how much I'm on my bike and all the new friends that I've made. He rushed the move because of his parents and because of that I wasn't able to pull my own weight with some of the tasks (previous engagements and whatnot). It put some strain on us, but we've been through worse. At this stage in the game it's nice to have enough self-confidence, self-sufficience, and self-worth to not freak out at every argument. If my world comes crashing down, I know I'm fully capable of picking it up and putting it back together again. I get by with a little help from my friends...

I've been riding my bike at least 3 times a week at 10+ miles per ride, which was the goal that I had set for myself. Yay for accomplishments! Pam and I had a casual ride to Gulfport on Thursday and a speedy north loop on Friday. On Sunday Britt joined us for the Skirts long ride out to Seminole. The ride was a breeze and the pace was wonderful. We even caught the boys coming back from their trail ride (the conversation was akin to a middle school dance. Lots of "uhh" and "uhmmm", boys on one side, girls on the other, et cetera). Not to mention that the weather is perfect for cycling. Having a nice refreshing jump in the Tinnen's pool post-ride didn't hurt either! We even snuck in a little playground action on the way back.

We're at it again this Sunday, and hopefully we'll get past Seminole this time. Goal is to be able to make it to my parents house in Port Richey and back before the end of the year. I think we've got it in us. I've improved a lot over the past month, and there are several girls that inspire me to jump on my bike and beat the shit out of myself each and every day. Don't know what I'd do without them.

Tampa Bay representing in Orlando

Tampa Bay dominating the Back 2 Skool Shuffle!
I'm in the middle with the smushed boobies and the white wife beater.
Good times were had by all.

Keeping score?

1 point for negi, -2 for posi.

Still trying to get my shit together. Still trying to find the time to ride. Still trying to get all the chemicals in my brain to work together instead of against each other. Trying not to listen, trying to pay attention to detail, trying to keep it all together.

Shit ain't as easy as it looks.

Took the ride from my new house in Old Southeast to Britt's place near the Publix downtown. Real easy, nice ride. Less than 5 minutes. 3rd St. is the way to go, as I got hooted and hollered at while taking 4th St. home. That neighborhood is a little more sketchy than my new one is. I'm looking forward to riding to and from work as well. It's 5 miles each way, so I think 10 miles a day plus whatever I ride afterwards should be the golden ticket...

It's hard to believe I've only been at this for a month. Finished my first alleycat. Piecing together a bike that I can call my own. I wish I could focus on all the good that is coming from all of this, and ignore all the petty bullshit associated with it. I'm not hardwired for that sort of thing. I need some kind of biking zen. Some nice calm stress free zone where I can be pushed but not embarrassed... sweat and grunt without feeling as if I'm being stared at even though there's a good chance I'm not.

I just need to get my head back in the game.
Bring it, motherfuckers.
I work best under pressure.

Quick thoughts.

There's something different in the air. The smell of hope and salvation. I want to be posi, but I don't think my brain makes the correct chemicals to allow that to happen. Sure, I'm over-stressed, under-slept, sick sore and tired... but other than that I see no reason as to why I shouldn't be smiling at the birds and singing to the trees.

Other than the fact that life sucks and the world is a piece of shit, obviously.

But really, how do you tune out all the negative nancies and debbie downers in your head. How do you put all your fears, worries, even blatant name calling and evil aside... to just be happy?

I used to think happiness was a warm body. That changed into a warm puppy. Which then morphed into a warm bike seat. My psychic told me that the key to my happiness would be being outside, but outside contains people and I don't really like having to deal with more of those than I have to. A select few are fine, sometimes even welcomed, but for the most part the general population brings me to tears.

So, how do you do it? Maintain the posi. Fuck the negi(?).
How do you push on through the ho-hum to get to the fuck yes?

NOBRAKES. (TRT)

Britt and I have officially formed a fixed gear team. After Team Tecate was forced into permanent hiatus, we have since re-emerged as a female powerhouse of fixed gear fury. I present to you, ladies and gentelmen... TEAM RED TIDE.

In other news, I'm racing my first alleycat tomorrow. I've put bullhorns on my bike and wrapped them with some nice squishy tape, which should alleviate some of the back issues I've been having with my old bars. The most scariest thing about all of this is... I'll be doing it with no brakes. Yes, you heard me. NOBRAKES. You see, I had a mini-lever on my bars reminiscent of a BMX brake (because it is one)... Owen kinda snapped that off by accident while switching out my bar yesterday, so because my new toe clips are oh-so snug and nice... they'll be my only method of stopping..... in a foreign town, on my first race, tomorrow.

I may be brilliant, but I sure am stupid.

So, I'm looking forward to racing. While I have no illusions of grandeur, my only goal is to actually FINISH said race. I don't think I'll have much of a problem with that, though I might come in dead last. Orlando is known for it's amazing checkpoints. Drink a shot of whiskey. Roll down a hill. Bob for mannequin heads... Things of that sort. Fun, fun. I guess the real feat will be if I can still race after a 2 hour car ride with Pamela Jean Tinnen. That girl knows how to ROADTRIP.

Still going on a ride tonight, as I haven't tried my new bars out for more than 2 miles, but I'm hoping I don't strain myself. I've been lucky so far with soreness and injuries (nothing that a hot shower couldn't fix) and I don't want to blow out a knee or hamstring just because I couldn't keep my ass off a bike seat for 24 hours. Like the jackass that I am...

- photo courtesy of Britt & Judy (and whoever took the actual picture).

This is what I have to deal with... when I ride with other people. This... is why I am vehemently opposed to Daisy Duke Wednesdays. Oh, and dumb kids who buy bikes in installments, then sit on a message board all day instead of looking for an actual job.

I like to ride my bike.

I'm so good at being so bad.
The pessimist. The hypocryte. The anti-hero.
Yes, sirs and madams... I ride a fixed gear.

I ride without a helmet, down the wrong way on one way streets. Dead of night with a sole LED cutting between me and the darkness. Earbuds in, Pinhead Gunpowder blasting. My own damn fault, I'd assume. Not hard to get sucked into any sort of mess in this town. There was the one boy who broke me of the saddle years ago. Technically, two. One got me on it, another got me down. The first never had his shit together enough to even formulate what normal adult relationship would have been (the only kind I stand for). The second, well that was through no fault of his own... I decided to hop off the bike when I realized testosterone and sexual tension were not a good combination in close quarters. No need to hurt any feelings or feed any egos... there was enough of that to go around.

Now the tides have turned, sun set, page turned et cetera, ad nauseum. I'm back on two wheels and it feels like I never left. The last time, my bike was clumsy, slow, and didn't work quite right. Sort of like the boy who bought it for me. This time around my steed is lighter, more efficient, and fun as shit. Sort of like the boy I got it from...

I'm having some problems assimilating to the culture. Technical terms and jargon aren't an issue. Research and love for the game will always handle that, regardless of what the new situation is. Once again it is the social interactions that leave me speechless. With other hobbies it was never a problem. Hide behind a pen, a computer screen, a guitar, a microphone. Slink away into your Fortress of Solitude and create your art. But what happens when your art is all around you? How do you get the assholes out of your studio?

I'll let you know once I figure that shit out.