Swisher Sweets and The Walk of Shame

It didn’t look icy when I left for my bike commute this morning. Sure the ground was shiny here and there, but it looks like that when it’s wet too. Besides, the weatherman said that it would only get down to 34 degrees – that bitch.

I was about a mile out before I really started sliding the first time. “Way too far to turn back now”, I thought. I white knuckled it 6 miles to the greenbelt, I thought that at least if I fell on the greenbelt I wouldn’t get run over by a truck. I wonder if your heart racing in fear counts as zone 3 training?

It could have been worse, I was even nice enough to say ‘hi’ to school bus kid and his friends. As I slid on by the aroma of swisher sweet filled the air and all the kids tried to look innocent. Ah, the good old days minor consumption. Toke on dudes, I am neither your parents or a cop – and won’t pretend to be either.

As I reveled in the memories that the swisher sweet smell evoked, I rolled on to the greenbelt in Garden City. The greenbelt that has not been plowed or otherwise maintained for months. I got about a mile before I reached a section of snow/ice rut hell that apparently had been soft at one time but wasn’t now. I rode through it as well as I could until I took the first spill. Then I began the walk of shame. How humiliating to have to get off and walk the bike… January sucks.