A really nice Sunday morning and a bike ride. Head out on the fixie and I'm just flying. Spinning 130 or so, 26 mph and all the flags are going the same way as me. A feeling of true elation, I am so fast, I am so strong, women think I'm hot. But in the back of my mind I have that gnawing feeling of dread. It chews at my happiness for every mile I ride. It grows and grows until it's omnipresent, looming, spitting heat down my neck as I make the turn to head home.
55 rpm, knees like an old man in a nursing home, my own private hell.
I do so love my fixie.