Mendzors

I stopped taking the heavy hitting pain killers Tuesday afternoon.  I had two reasons:

1. I wanted to see how I was actually doing.  I had been feeling much better way faster than I would've imagined possible.

2. I wanted to poop sometime this week.  I'm starting to feel like a piñata desperately seeking the relieving company of a baseball bat.

The good news is number two is now number two'ing.  The bad news is that number one is not so good.  Wednesday morning, I was back to having trouble putting on my socks.

I am not excite.  Lots of free time to make more t-shirts (that will never get actually made).

The ROS9 with a Thomson drooper has been a life saver at work. 

I've been doing the Harley Shuffle up to stop lights and parking spots to reduce the amount that I have to move when dismounting/remounting the bike.  I feel like a dork... pretty sure I look like one too.  The downside of riding the ROS9 being that I acknowledge on some level that I'm riding a "fun" bike.  The temptation to do something stupid sometimes supersedes my knowledge that I'm broken.  I don't remember that until I'm halfway done with my ill-advised maneuver...

My movements are limited in a strange manner.  It's like tying one end of a rope to a tree, the other to a bicycle innertube.  Then I put the innertube around my midsection.  Now I run.  The interesting part is that it's as if someone changes the length of the rope without my knowledge.  I never know how far I can push things (doing things like sock removal, unloading the dryer, getting out of bed, jumping off a curb...) until the innertube snaps me back into reality. 

Of course, there's going to be great weather for a bike ride in Charlotte this weekend.  I've yet to figure out what to do about that.  Thinking I'll ride the borrowed JET9 RDO over to the short track race on Sunday, because nothing makes great road ride like full suspension, high zoot crabon bicycle. 

I always have this option which found its way into my life:

The Pie was having hip issues with her running.  I told her not to push it.  She did as I do and not as I say, naturally making her situation worse.  Desperate for a way to get her cardio fix in without hobbling herself, I borrowed a trainer from a friend at work.  She's been hitting it way harder than I woulda ever imagined, so I'm entirely happy about that. 

Strange to have a trainer device in the house.  I borrowed one back in 2009 when The Pie went to volunteer in Haiti and I didn't wanna miss fourteen days of bonus saddle time in March.  I'm finding myself somewhat tempted to put my butt on this torture machine, even if just to burn off those cookies that fell in my mouth earlier this week.

Does thumb-twiddling burn calories?

Desperate times meet desperate measures.