Originally Posted by c0urt

i need a good saddle, mine chafes my special places.


but natural
My bike is a cold steel *****.
It pushes me to go harder, to go faster. to want more. It makes me wants to spin until my legs melt, to sprint until my I can taste my lungs, and to climb until I see only God.
Earlier this week I changed the seat position on my fixed gear bike into a much more aggressive stance, since I know I have gotten stronger since I started riding it. At first I thought I ruined the ride quality and felt like I would be changing it back shortly. But then I adopted a low fighters crouch. My hands out in front of me, head tucked down eyes raised up. And everything changed.
This was no longer dancing. This was a fight.
I made is across town in a record time. I think I may have set a pace that rivals the times I usually go for on my geared bike.
I was standing next to my front door, grinning from ear to ear and I realized the only things I remembered from the entire ride home were the streaks of light as they shot past the corners of my eyes. And the words harder, faster. more, coming from the cold steel ***** between my legs.