Friday, July 20, 2012

New bikes... are kinda scary.

In the last two days, I have come home from halfway around the world (see the pretty picture?), and gone out to shop for groceries.  

I was here.

The jet lag is hitting me a bit harder than I'd anticipated.  Let's leave that there.  

All my recipes this week come out of Diet For A Small Planet by Frances M. Lapp.  I figured that as long as I'm going veg again, I might as well go way back to the beginning.  Back when I first decided to give up meat (for Lent, remember), my mother handed me her old copy of Small Planet and insisted I read it so I understand the protein thing.  While the science and social stuff is long-winded, what I like is that it's not a diet.  I don't need to track calories or cut carbs or figure out my blood type or eat any particular menu.  It gives me recipes to eat a ton of veggies and make sure I get enough protein.  I'm back to doing what I did in my teens, and when I lived in Arlington and threw down 70 mile Saturdays on my hybrid.  I cook veggies, and when I'm hungry, I eat more veggies or fruit with some nuts.  Since I love veggies, it makes me happy.    

This not-a-diet worked well for me in Virginia.  I can only hope it'll work out again with a bear of a training summer on the books.  

Besides, when we tried stuff like South Beach and later, Paleo, I rapidly achieved a state that I like to think of as "carbohydrate deprivation insanity", involving me dreaming at night about loaves of bread and bananas and muffins.  During one low carb attempt, one friend witnessed me bursting into tears at the sight of a forbidden plate of pasta.  

I understand that low-carb works for many people, and when I don't work out at all, it works well for me, too.  

But when you ride your bike for two or three hours, or run and swim in one day, you deserve your damn pasta.  That is all.  

Now please get your South Beach hands away from my banana.   

Meanwhile, I'm trying to convince myself that it's time to get up off the futon and go bike shopping.  Now that I've sold the Bambino, I really need a new bike.  Like, this week.  So I have to go test riding.  But it seems so unreal, to actually be buying this thing.   We've been talking about this for over a year now.  I hate shopping.  And I know that if I go, I'll like what I ride, and then I'll make a decision, and then I'll buy it, and then it'll be real. 

The Bambino is already gone for good.  
The Bambino set up in what was clearly the only safe position for me.  Along with the Most Comfortable Couch in the World.  Damn, I loved that couch.  Note to self: never give up another great couch again.

And while I didn't really like that bike all that much- it was my 30th birthday present, from M, while we were newlyweds.  Granted, it was never really fit, and figured significantly in two major crashes that sent me to the hospital.  You'd think I'd be glad to send that sucker away.  

But I'm finding it's hard to admit that I'll have a new baby bike in the house to play with.  And that everything- fit, function, bike happiness, the placement of my bento box, the ability to add on aerobars- everything changes with the new wheels.  

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