Balls said the queen, if I had them I'd be King in Normal entries

68 degrees and 90 percent humidity, that’s either bragging or my only excuse (hopefully), oh and I’m 56 fucking years old and have been a whiney couch potato. I went on my most ambitious ride of the week today. From 1972 to 1990 I would have considered todays ride childish, easy, a unicycle ride while juggling Justin Beiber fans.

72 to 75 I went on at least four multi-century runs a year (a century being a hundred miles, most of those rides being four hundred.) From 1980 to 1990 I would ride from my house to school or work, but this was in Portland. The house my daughter was born in was forty five city blocks from the river and school was another 12 blocks up from the river and some odd ten blocks south. I know that doesn’t sound like much and heading into school I could do it in less than ten minutes, it’s at least a six percent grade, I used the brake a lot. Coming back it was a good forty five minutes of hard pedaling.

In 1991 I herniated a disc, got whiplash, crunched a few molars and for six months in rehab ten minutes on a slow treadmill and 45 minutes of deep tissue infra red massage was about my speed. Somewhere in between during a good period, I was in LA, Playa Del Rey a beach a few miles south of Venice as the crow flies, and borrowed my brothers bike for a ride along the beach bike trail. Little old ladies croaked “On your Left!” and whizzed by me. I don’t mean those LA fitness little old ladies that look like beef jerky and do triathlons. I mean pokey little old ladies on old schwins with baskets and a bell.

Today I would have passed them or offered them water going up hills. The beach path is pretty damn flat. In 1972 I considered this whole town flat, from an aesthetic perspective I still do. I used to train by riding to the county seat and back a few times a day, there were hills and a 26 mile round trip. Today I was proud to make it up the hilly parts of this town, which, for me, now a days, are hills. I know this state pretty well and There aren’t any stretchs like my daily ride into school in Portland. There are some very pretty places that are hilly, like along the lake shores (well, Michigan and Superior, never rode the Huron shoreline or Ontario and the parts of Erie I have rode were not so hilly), but there’s respite along the way. Portland is like San Francisco, except instead of everything ascending from the Bay, everything ascends from the river.

Sorry, a wee bit of Portland geopgraphy. There are two rivers, I’m talking about the Willamette. Where the Columbia comes through Portland the rise is gradual, East of Portland the rise is anywhere from incredibly steep to Rock climbing steep. The Willamette divides Portland. The Columbia divides Oregon and Washington.

East Lansing geography. East lansing is a sinkhole, so it’s not like the hills take you to an altitude, they take you to sea level. From East Lansing to the county seat you rise maybe fifty feet above sea level (it’s a guess, I could look it up, but why?) but you start at a deficit. Wait I said that wrong. The County seat is at least fifty feet above sea level, I’m about twenty three feet below. So, yeah, you’d feel the hills walking even getting from here to, say the middle school six blocks away. Sorry, I’d feel them, um, not that I go to the middle school for anything. Out back of the middle school is ‘Mickey Mouse Hill’ The only place I could walk to as a kid with a sled and get any momentum for it to be fun sledding. The place you could drive to reasonably, with a bump called “angels leap” wasn’t steeper, just longer.

So that’s the area I went riding in today. I feel good. I could talk about my nuts and the measures I’ve gone to, after learning a hard lesson, to protect and nuture those fine fellows, but I think I just did. I can’t remember it being an issue in the seventies and in the eighties my bike both had a comfortable seat and given the nature of the ride I didn’t spend much time in the seat. Modern seats are, I think, part of some zero population plan. Not that I’m planning on having any more kids, but I’m still very fond of my nuts. My nuts are good guys, friendly, charitable, generous, affectionate, a strong moral compass but non-judgmental, they do their best to support the community and always have a sympathetic shoulder (after a fashion) to lean on. I want them nutured and encouraged, not put on the rack for some inquisition.

I tried on cycling shorts in local stores. They only carry the high end ones, wait, no, the expensive brand names, there seems to be no apparent difference in quality from one to the other. One of the reasons I have no criminal record is that my balls are shy and humble and eschew the spotlight. There is only one style of cycling shorts that don’t look like the beginning of gay porn (I assume) and those are very complicated. Hanging in the middle of regular looking nylon (yuk) shorts is what they call a shammy; it’s padded lycra underwear. Unlike swimming trucks (male) that have a mesh enclosure sewn inside, in the biking shorts it’s not sewn in, it’s attached at two loop points. It took me the better part of ten minutes to figure out how to wear them in the dressing room, the last nine minutes was just stubbornness and pride; I was not going to be outwitted by a pair of shorts. I tried on a few others.

In my life I’ve never tried on something intimate and then put it back on the shelf. Like swimming trunks they are designed to go commando. I did not, but I’m sure someone has; tried them on and, possibly, put them back, though, I assume most people purchasing hundred dollar gay porn pants know what they are buying and purchase them. On a bike they just look like tight shorts. It’s off the bike and standing that they look like the opening of gay porn. Um, I haven’t really watched much gay porn, sunny thought it was funny. Hetro or mixed porn the pizza boy just flops his big dick out, usually from jeans.

No story short; all is well, I’m getting full cardio and my boys are now safe and secure, though they always feel secure almost to the point of arrogance.

Last updated July 23, 2016