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Be Glad You Don’t Live With Me June 10, 2008

Posted by K in Biking, K's Perspective, Why Am I Doing This?.
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A M and I set out to do this blog, we wanted to share our stories, our pain, our humiliation, and our frustrations with you as we train. And last night was certainly abound with frustrations!!

Let me set the stage for you, it’s roughly 10:30pm last night and I’ve decided that it’s finally bed time. I get ready for bed and put on my PJ’s (a tshirt) and I start to pack up my bag for work tomorrow (today) as I’m planning to ride into work as part of my training/saving the planet from CO2 thing. I think to myself, gee, I should probably check the air in my tires as I haven’t put air in them in a while and I’ll be riding 32 miles tomorrow.

I go back into the hallway in my tshirt and underwear since my roomie isn’t home and grab my bike pump. I take the top off the valve and I put the pump thingie on and I hear the hiss that means that it’s hitting the right part of the presta valve. I pump the pump except I know that there’s no air going into the tire, it’s just filling up the cord thingie. So I take off the pump from the valve and try again.

*hisss* air lets out, put pump thingie on, try and pump. Still not working. I try again and realize that I have essentially deflated my front bike tire. I start to get a bit frustrated as it’s now 11pm, I’m sunburnt and sitting on the floor of my front hallway in a tshirt and underwear, hoping my roomie doesn’t come home, and trying to pump up my now flat front bike tire.

I take a look at the pump, fiddle about with it because it’s one of those “combo” pumps for both schrader and presta valves. I take the pump thingie that goes on the valve apart, try putting it back together in a different way to see if it helps. Nope. I try again. This time, I can get it to put some air in the tire if I hold it onto the tire with one hand and pump with the other which is ridiculously hard to do and I only manage to get enough air into the tire so that it’s not completely flat. I think to myself, “ok, now I can try pumping it up the right way to fill it all the way up so I can ride tomorrow”. I put the pump thingie back together properly, go to pump up my tire and I deflate it again because the POS pump is not putting air INTO the tire, only letting it OUT!

Now, I’m getting really frustrated. It’s hot in my flat, I’m sweating from my one-handed bike pump attempt and I have a sunburn, and I’m PMSing and did I mention that I’m still just in my tshirt and underwear? When all of a sudden I feel a very familiar pain in my intestines. One that I am very familiar with and one that long time readers of TPK also know all to well. I make a mad dash for the bathroom at which point I stub my toe on the door frame! Cursing, I rush to the toilet to rue the day that I ever thought whole wheat pasta with butter and tons Parmesan was a good idea to eat for dinner. My toe is bleeding, I’m dying of intestinal pain, and I can’t get my goddamn bike tire to inflate!

After I’ve made my peace with my dairy ingestion, I make one last attempt to inflate my tire. Same old song in dance, my tire is still lifelessy flat, my toe is still bleeding, my boyfriend still hasn’t texted me back, I’m sweaty and hot and crampy, my hair is tangled, my glasses are smudged, I have grease on my hands from my bike, and as I make one last ditch attempt to pump up my tire, the pressure in the cord of the bike pump explodes the valve thingie off the valve right into my shin..

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The string of expletives that came out of my mouth right then rivaled even the dirtiest of sailors and truckers. And thankfully, the windows to my flat were all open because it was too hot so my neighbors and the people on the street were welcome to views and audio of the crazy lady in her tshirt and underwear with bad hair throwing a tantrum of swear words that would make Samuel L. Jackson proud.

For good measure, I picked up the bike pump and threw it down the stairs, slammed my bedroom door and went to bed where I promptly got my bike-grease hands all over my white sheets. Motherf*cker.

The moral of the story is two-fold: don’t eat dairy if your lactose intolerant (duh!) and don’t buy sh*tty, cheap, crappy, piece of junk combo bike pumps, buy one SPECIFICALLY made for your bike type (schrader v. presta).

My tire is still flat 😦

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Comments»

1. Melissa - June 10, 2008

Oh.Man. That is hilarious! Sorry K but it is! I can only imagine the wonderful litany of curse words that sprung forth from your mouth and I’m kinda wishing there were a video out there so I could laugh some more 🙂

I mean, that sucks and I hate your bike pump. I’ll totally kick it for you 🙂


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