I set a goal to run a half-marathon (21.2km) by the end of the month. Lola says I’m in my PRIME.
I even purchased a new pair of running shoes last Friday: the Mizuno Wave Rider 29, which I named “Skid Marks” on Strava. One of Strava’s features allows you to track the mileage on your equipment. My three bikes are named Sodapop, Ponyboy, and Cherry Valance. My shoes are called Runny Poos, and now, I have Skid Marks as well.
So far, I have put 5.8km on my Skid Marks, and I can’t do any more for the next bit because I am healing a re-tattoo of my stupid yellow-bellied goose and my underbite-having flying fish.
A few weeks ago, my 22-year-old colleague, Ella, showed me her latest tattoo: a monarch butterfly on her shoulder blade. She’d gotten it while on a trip, which made me sweat a little as I like to aggressively research tattoo artists before committing to one, but this artist did a lovely job.
“I have some bad news for you…” I told her after complimenting the tattoo.
I told her the bad news only because I wish somebody had told me the same when I was her age. Here’s the tattoo I got when I was 21:
Slop on that sunscreen.
Tattoos or no, the sun will age your skin. And tattoos, the colours of the sun, age the worst. Here’s how my goose, flying fish, and trefoil knot fared after being exposed to 385 million billion billion watts over 21 years:
21 years later, and I don’t regret any of my tattoos; however, this tattoo had become my least favourite purely because of how old it looked. Ella asked me why I hadn’t gotten it retouched.
“Getting a new tattoo had always been more appealing.”
The last person to ink new art on my body recently moved to Ontario, so I won’t be getting anything new for the foreseeable future. When it comes to reworking an old tattoo, though, the criteria are different. When I reached out to Vic at Lucky Fortune, I wasn’t counting on him being available so soon.
I’m trying the second skin healing method this time. On Sunday after work, I debuted the Skid Marks on a Zone 2 (keeping my heart rate below 136bpm) run in hopes I could avoid sweating. At the end of my run, an oval sweat stain had pooled in the middle of my sports bra and leaked through my t-shirt. I’m now on my second set of second skin and have been intentionally sedentary, Lola be damned.
Not only am I in my prime, but the weather forecast for the week is looking decent! Jen has invited me to ride with the Wheelers ladies’ crew again on Thursday. Here’s a picture from last Thursday of us being all matchy-matchy and posing in front of a random Thai restaurant:
My heart is raring to go, and my chest is itching. Not itching to go. Just plain itching.
Sodapop, my road bike, turns 11 this year. Here’s what Sodapop looked like when I first brought her home:
The only original parts that remain on Sodapop are the front derailleur, headset, and left shifter. Here is how she looks after multiple glow-ups:
She has long achieved perfection. I would not trade Sodapop for any stock road bike currently on the market. Not the Trek Madone SLR 9. Not the Cannondale SuperSix EVO LAB71. Not the Factor OSTRO VAM. NONE OF THEM.
Not because any of these three examples are shitty bikes, but because they are SHITTY TO WORK ON. The other day at work, I built an Orbea Orca M30i. The bike came with several plastic bags containing bits and bobs I couldn’t identify firsthand, including this:
It’s a seatpost wedge. There is a grub screw that enters the back of the seat tube opening and pushes this wedge against the seat post. It’s dumb because it’s a loose piece that will fall into the frame when the seatpost is removed, unless you have the foresight to tilt your bike backward and slowly pull out the seatpost. This particular wedge costs $28 USD, and it isn’t cross-compatible with other brands.
And all bike mechanics agree, “What the fuck is wrong with a regular seatpost collar?”
Oh, it’s not aerodynamic. Imagine being dropped during a club ride and yelling at the distancing paceline, “It’s not fair, I have a seatpost collar!”
And don’t get me started on the current trend of running cable housing/brake hoses through the stem. I am happy when I’m riding Sodapop, and she is a pleasure to work on. I don’t have to worry about losing any expensive proprietary piece that might be out of stock for months.
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