Wednesday, September 28, 2011

No, fuckface. Holler at you

Apparently most men do not understand the issue with "hollering" at women. When I say "hollering," I mean any of the following: whistling, cat-calling, yelling suggestively, that christ-awful tongue through the fingers gesture that makes my skin crawl. You know. Sexual harassment. And men--at least the ones I work with and therefore can poll the most easily--don't see any kind of problem with it.

You want to yell "Sup sexy!" as a woman passes? Congratulations, asshole, you've just made her feel like less of a person.

What you're really doing is telling a woman that she can't be seen out of doors without a male escort.* What you're really doing is reaffirming the fact that, although we like to call this the land of the free, some of us are more free than others.

Sexual harassment is scary. It's a man asserting his perceived dominance over you. As a pedestrians or a cyclist, the threat is even more real. There was a case a few years ago where a woman was nearly run down by an angry driver who hopped the curb when she ignored him. (Oh wait, I take it back. He hit her)

These are our streets, our sidewalks, our spaces too. We should not feel that the only safe way to move in public is head down, eyes on the ground, not daring to look around for fear of making eye contact and "encouraging" this. And on top of being harassed, there's always the threat that we're going to be followed or attacked, no matter how we respond.

So to the kid on the DART who will not leave me be: fucking stop. I know you think you're being sweet and flattering, but all you are is making me feel unsafe. I won't actually tell you to go away and leave me be because I'm worried about retaliation. I have to take that train with you every fucking morning. And you creep the hell out of me.

And to any men out there who may still think that street harassment is okay: it's not. It never has been and it never will be. We are also not flattered. There is nothing uplifting about some dirty smelly man yelling a passing "WHAT'S UP HOT STUFF" from his broken-down car as he goes roaring through the intersection. In fact, we just want to go get ourselves checked out in case STDs have suddenly become airborne. You're filthy, you're gross, and you're threatening. And you make America a little less like America every day.

*Yes, I just referenced the Taliban. Is this the new Godwin's Law? Did I lose?

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Fixed gear. No brakes. Can't stop. Don't want to, either.

Full disclosure, I love and adore Joseph Gordon-Levitt. I have since '10 Things I Hate About You' (yes, I loved Heath Ledger too, but that's just kind of weird now). I'm pretty sure JGL can do no wrong and I kind of dig the fact that filming this he went crashing through the back window of a taxi and needed 31 stitches to get put back together. Because whether he's rocking a 3 piece suit or mooning over the most popular girl in school, JGL is a badass.

Treehugger's opinion of this is that it feeds directly into every New Yorker's (any city dweller, really) worst impression that cyclists are "reckless, arrogant, and dangerous". Which I can see their point. At the same time, not everyone who drives an Aston Martin is James Bond (though they're probably dreaming that they are). Not every gravely-voiced Brit is certified in kicking ass and taking names (that's just Jason Statham). And sometimes it's just a goddamn movie.

The bit that gets me though is when his not-Michele Rodriguez buddy thrashes a cab's sideview mirror with what I assume is a chain lock. Because I'm really confused by the logistics. Like, does she ride with the lock in hand, waiting for someone to piss her off? Does she keep it easily accessible so that she can catch up to them in the slow New York traffic and exact her revenge? I asked a buddy of mine who used to live in the city and he confirmed that, yeah, he did dent a hood with his lock, but only once that he'll admit to. I have so wanted to do this so many times but in the vast wasteland that is Texas, the cars have too much room to get going too fast, and there aren't many side streets or alleys I can duck into to shield myself from their wrath.

Also, this "Wilee" character (I mean, seriously? That's what confirms my worst fears about NYC cyclists. They're all a bunch of stupid hipsters with stupid names) talks a big game about fixies, but when he's pulling his hippity-hoppity, Danny MacAskill stunts, that is no fixie. Hell, I'm bike-illiterate and I know that.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

A ode to Sunflower Market

This place is the single greatest food store in the entire Dallas/Fort Worth metroplex. No, I have not explored every last one but if anyone has found something better I think my inner foodie might explode. Because Sunflower Market, if you've never been, is quite simply amazing.

For starters:

Full disclosure: I know nothing about their meat.
Bow chika wow wow

Lower left: I know you don't seem them much in Dallas, but that right there friends is a bike rack. It's a glorious offering from an establishment that makes me much more amenable to visiting. That is starting things out on the right foot. Kroger? I lock up to a bench. Albertsons? The handicap sign. Whole Foods? I spend way too much money. I digress.

I love taking pictures of peppers. They are so colorful and shiny.

Do I have any facts about Sunflower? Do I know where they get their produce, how it's grown, how long between when it's picked and when it goes on a shelf? No. Should I? Yes. Does this stop me from enjoying the fresh fresh taste and low low price? Abso-freaking-lutely not. Mmm peaches and bananas and oranges and cucumbers and celery and carrots and grapefruit and grapes and so much utter goodness for so so little. Love.

And for all of us carb-aholics ...

Mmm I love love love their bread. Goes from $2.50 to $3.99 a loaf and while four bucks is getting up there, I can totally handle a two-fiddy. And, for those of us who may or may not be watching our girlish figures, the bread goes around 50 to 60 calories a slice, without losing any taste whatsoever. It is so delicious and I actually read the nutrition label on this one and it's not substitute-this or artificial-that. It's like "organic whole grain wheat flour" "honey" "barley" "oats." And it makes fantastic stove toast.

Yeah, there's a your packaged foods and whatnot. Here is where prices start to get up into Whole Foods territory so I avoid this section when possible. There's the store brand ("Smart Food, Silly Prices") but that doesn't cover everything. I'm cheap as hell, so I eat mainly fresh vegetables without cooking too much because I don't want to spending money on all these kind of crazy things. Also? With some of what you need?

That's right. It comes in barrels. I get a week's worth of groceries for less than $25 and I dig it.

So what it all comes down to is this: Sunflower Market, I love. I worship you with all my heart. If someone wrote a guide book about you I would keep it by my bed and swear all my legal oaths on it. And it will stay that way, until they bring in Trader Joes.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

More tips for starting cyclists

11. You can bike in anything. Seriously, you can. You don't need spandex shorts, much less a full kit (that's what it's called, right?). You can cycle in whatever you got in. Shorts are awesome. Pants are cool too, but you might want to roll the right leg to keep it out of your chain. Skirts, dresses? Go for it! But maybe point your knees in, if modesty is a concern.

12. That goes for shoes too. Despite being consistently told that I need "real shoes", I will frequently cycle in flip flops and it's fine. Your feet aren't going to be cursed by the bike fairy (though, to be fair, after a while the pressure under your foot will get uncomfortable). Ballet flats? Just don't let them fall off. Anything that secures to your foot? It's awesome! You sure as shit don't need to go clipless.

13. Bike grease is a part of life. Live it, love it, embrace it. You spend any quality time on a bike, you and whatever you wear will get stained with bike grease. I think the mark on my right calf is permanent at this point. No, I don't know how to get it out of clothes—I wear it as a badge of pride.

13. Brush your damn teeth. And go to the damn dentist. Not related to cycling, you say? Every penny you spend fixing what should have been preventable is a penny you don't get for your bike. Suck on that!

14. Cyclists in Dallas are awesome. As Janice would say, the greatest people you will ever meet. So get on a bike and go meet them.

15. Look out for cars. Because you can't trust them to look out for you. In a battle of bike vs car, the car always wins. You may be in the right (and your family might make a bundle suing the ever-loving pants off the driver) but that doesn't much matter as you're doing your best impression of road kill.

16. Be ready for bruises. You will crash, not an if but a when. It's gonna happen. Whether you're just being a fool or your front tire catches in trolley tracks or you're taken out by a fellow cyclist or (god forbid) you're hit by a car, that bike is at some point going down. It doesn't hurt as bad as you think it will. Usually. So wear a helmet.

17. Be ready to stink. Especially in the summertime, in Texas. Like the bike grease, just embrace it. Jus' let it happen. Or take up smoking. It'll mask the smell some. (is that why so many cyclists smoke?)

18. Learn to fix a flat. Yes I know it's a duplicate. Now that I've done it, I feel like I have the right to post it again.

19. Carry a spare tube. More duplicates, this time for added emphasis. Without one, you are dead in the water. I lost mine (how, I have no idea) and now I feel totally naked. It's like leaving home without my cell phone.

20. You can wear headphones. I finally drank the kool-aid. Used to be I associated cycling and headphones with all things stupid after seeing some 'tard roll by at night, no lights, no helmet, headphones in. But really? I pound out some serious speed with 'Black and Yellow' in my ears and I'm not going to be ashamed of that. And neither should you.

Monday, September 19, 2011

I am the driver my parents warned me about

I don't know how everyone else does it. Gets in their car, battles the horrific Dallas morning traffic, puts in the tedium of your average 9-to-5, gets back in their car, battles the worse Dallas afternoon traffic and somehow does it all without losing their godforsaken minds.

Because I sure as hell can't. I am the worst kind of road-rager. I completely lose it. I am that psychopath ranting and raving in the confines of her car, calling down the wrath of the heaven on anyone else who dares be on the road. I scream, I swear and I am absolutely positive that no one else has any reason whatsoever to be in my way at this very moment and if they don't clear the fuck out I hope they all die in a fiery pit filled with flesh-eating piranhas and angry frickin sea bass with frickin lasers on their frickin heads. 

The biggest mystery is how I haven't popped a vessel by now. It's like I can feel my blood pressure tick higher and higher and higher with every moment I'm stuck in traffic. And I feel like I will do absolutely anything to get out of said traffic. The car that the state of Texas has for some unknown reason seen fit to license me to drive feels transformed into a 3000 pound battering ram. As cyclists we talk about cars as weapons—and if I drove anything larger than a Camry you better the hell believe that's how I'd use mine. I dream about being behind the wheel of a bulldozer and tossing aside everyone in my way, human cargo be damned.

I ride a bike with the idea that every driver is as bad as I am, because that can't possibly be true.

This post has been brought to you by the 5pm 9-car pileup that shut down eastbound 635 this afternoon. Also, by the letters R, A, G and E.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

It is definitely still summer

Still a mite warmish

But a beautiful day for a ride, nonetheless. Today's post was going to be a love letter to Sunflower Market but something else cropped up. After a quick out-and-back to the grocery store (and, like, seriously, my week's groceries cost some $21. For the whole week) I rode out to White Rock for some quality time in the saddle.

Out of the frame and off to the right is my little picnic. I packed a blanket, water, grapes and a book and had a pretty little time in the shade by the lake. There were a ton of people out, so it was an exciting little ride. Not a lot of runners, probably on account of the hour and the heat, but nice enough. I started flagging somewhere around mile 20, I'll admit, but I was woefully under-fueled. So now I'm feet up and chowing down. Adore.

How have I lived around White Rock for the vast majority of my life and never realized that the benches were installed with bike racks on the back? Because that is awesome. Well played, White Rock. Well played.

But by far the best part of the ride?

Hopefully she won't mind I post this ...

Looks like I was dead wrong about the new Missoni for Target bikes. I figured they were so, well, gaudy isn't the right word ... audacious? Seemed a little showy and I was worried they wouldn't much appeal to first-time riders. Turns out I was wrong—they only produced 500, and those sold out in less than 4 hours. Apparently this lady was on the computer at some 4:45 am to secure hers, and it does look like it rides pretty. Congrats!


Wichita Falls Reports 100 Days at 100 Degrees

Good gracious. Suddenly it's an even more appropriate place for the Hotter N Hell (a race I have not done and at this point have no intention of doing)

Dallas hit 70 days at 100 degrees. Austin was somewhere near 80 ish. Texas is in its hottest, driest summer ever and our governor still denies any climate change whatsoever and gutted the fire department. So ... my point? If you were thinking about buying land in Texas, wait till that good-haired monkey is out of office.

On the plus side, we're back into ideal cycling weather!

Friday, September 16, 2011

What. The. Shit.

The bright side: Anti-harassment legislation has now been introduced in DC.

Update: This video was shot from a helmet camera by a DC cyclist on August 31, 2011. He's riding down the road when, about a minute in, a truck passes him and, unprovoked, begins to yell and swear at him ("Get to the $&%# right" etc). The truck then cuts him off so sharply that the back end strikes the rider, knocking him to the ground. It's almost impossible to believe it wasn't intentional.

An Open Letter to (Some) Cyclists

Have you seen this before? Do you know what this means?

Because sometimes I wonder. But I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe you've only recently immigrated to the United States. You're from a small, undiscovered country somewhere on the southern border of Russia, you have no roads or signals and you don't speak a word of English. It's possible.

This sign says "STOP". It is, by no coincidence, a stop sign. When you see one, the sign means "STOP". And yes, that means you. All of you. Every cyclist who rides on the roads and wants to claim the same status as a vehicle must obey the same laws as a vehicle. Including this one.

Cyclists who blow through stop signs make us all look bad. We all look like a death-defying, disrespectful lot. Cyclists who blow through stop signs make it hard for the rest of us to hold our heads high and proudly say we follow the law. Cyclists who blow through stop signs make it possible, when a fellow cyclists is struck by a car, for the rest of the population to shrug and say "Well, he really had it coming. Those cyclists run stop signs all the time."

When you blow through a stop sign, you completely disrupt the flow of traffic. Cars slam, screeching, on their brakes to keep from hitting you when you co-opt the right of way—and those same cars come to view every cyclists as a potential stop-sign runner and that throws everything out of whack. Because the next time they approach a stop sign and see someone pedaling the other way, they don't know how to react. That cyclist could be someone like the rest of us, who stops where they're meant to for traffic to proceed. Instead, you've made a nation of jumpy, angry drivers so ... Congrats. Go play on the highway.

And it is just not fucking smart. Stop signs are meant to protect everybody. They keep us all from slamming into each other, and in this rat race cyclists have the most to lose. Unlike motorists, we don't have a two-ton steel cage to protect us and we need those stop signs to keep the cars in check. But when you stop respecting them, they stop respecting you. So please. Follow the law. Be smart. Ride tomorrow too.

Same goes for these.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The heart of the problem

It's all about respect. And cyclists don't get any.

We don't get respect from motorists. They hug us with their bumpers, tailing way too tight in hopes of snagging that extra millisecond for their all-important day. They cut us off, slicing inches from our shoulders and our handlebars and scaring off year of our lives. They honk, they yell, they throw things, they run us off the road. They hit us and back up over us and leave their cars parked on our heads until bystanders drag them away.

We don't get any respect from politicians. Bike project funding is minimal to begin with and then they use it like a political bargaining chip, playing with our lives to one-up each other and shut each other down. And before that they ignore cyclists completely until someone forces it to their attention, where they waver back and forth on the line until public opinion tells them where to put their foot down.

But we don't give any respect either.

I'm going to do more of a post on this later, but it's in the way we (not all of us, just some. But enough) ride. We jump unexpectedly into lanes, we blow through stop signs, we steal right of way where it isn't ours. We ride in packs taking up the entire road and we get so extraordinarily indignant when things don't go our way. I can't help but feel that if bikes respected cars and cars respected bikes, we'd all get along swimmingly. Like British people in the 19th century.

"Right ahead, lad!"

"G'day, sir!"

"Pip pip cheerio!"

And unicorns would leap out of glittering stoplights and birds would sing and there would be double rainbows everywhere and life would be so beautiful. And we'd love it.

But fuuuuuck can't even get any respect from pedestrians? Fucking pedestrians. These are the ones with the least footing and the most to lose and you figure that, looking up from the bottom of the heap, they'd at least have an inkling of it. But what have they got?

A snotty freaking attitude is what.

Like, seriously. I'm pedaling my own merry way down the Katy Trail. It's been a long day, I've been running on five hours of sleep, and I just want to get home. The trail is pretty full, what with the temperature dropping after heat wave numero dos, and care must be taken. I make very sure to keep an eye out for people being people and darting in front of me when I least expect it. I slow down and brake as I come across larger numbers of people. I let loose with a friendly "On your left!" (no, seriously, friendly) as I pass groups that squeeze me into the other lane.

If they don't hear me, I get louder. Once, twice, as much as I can until I get level and if they haven't heard me and haven't scooted over (which, really, is where they should already be in the first place, allowing others the use of the trail) I pipe up even further and finally shout it down their fucking ear. As was proven this time last year, the Katy Trail is not a safe place to be dumb and deaf. It usually goes pretty smoothly. Until ...

"Get off the trail!"

The hell you say?! Lady, this trail was built for commuters. Then Uptown grew and now it's swarmed with walkers and strollers (the baby kind and the people strolling along) and pets and runners and joggers and rollerbladers and those crazy elliptical-on-wheels and cyclists and fucking everybody. This trail is for all of us. Where the fuck do you get off telling me to get off the trail?!

Plus, I mean, your fat ass is kind of in the way.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Getting political again

But I swear this time it's relevant.

DailyKos ran this article yesterday, Republicans Are So Petty They Want to Cut Bike Safety, and while, yes, that is a sensationalist title, it's also damn accurate. For example, direct from the horses' mouths, Speaker of the House John Boehner and House Majority Leader Paul Ryan will only pass the infrastructure initiative in Obama's American Jobs Act if the 10% of surface transportation funds required to be set aside, in part, for the safety education of cyclists and pedestrians, is struck.

Yup. That's what they're saying. We'll only pass the money America needs to fix its roads if you promise you won't teach cyclists how to survive the streets.

How does this, in their words, eliminate waste? No I will not go so far as to suggest that they see cyclists as "waste" to be eliminated because that's freaking crazy talk and that is solidly Bachmann's territory, but seriously? The safety of the average American citizen is suddenly waste? What the hell are they going to use that 10% for—paving their driveways with Italian shoe leather?

Yes, please, help teach Americans bike safety. Please, teach Americans that bikes are safe, and that bikes are a reliable and practical form of short (or long) distance transportation. Teach Americans that there are ways other than their cars.

Then we won't need so much money for infrastructure. Bikes and pedestrians don't create a fraction of the wear and tear on the roads that cars do, calling for far less repair and construction. And adding cyclists cuts down on healthcare costs across the board. I could go on, but TreeHugger already did such a beautiful job so I'll just send you their way:

5 Good Reasons the Tea Party Should Love Bikes

Sunday, September 11, 2011

Thing I do when I'm not cycling

Well, not really enough wind today to get any sailing done but meet Elation. She's basically my big sister. I've been sailing her since I was tall enough to reach the tiller. There used to be a net all along the railing line, she was a "floating crib" till I was probably 18. Things have changed a bit since ...

Although I believe this is how my parents have
always packed the ice chest.

So beautiful out today. Clear sky, no clouds and out there it's blue as far as you can see, not a lot of Dallas to disrupt it. Again, no wind, but we did get to give her a good scrub down and fiddle some with the electronics. The running and spreader lights haven't been working so we had to dig in a bit.

The power of the Force

So the picture isn't totally clear, but that's the mast floating about two inches off the deck. Not floating so much as being suspended by a crane looped through a rope tied around the mast and snugged up under the stays but, you know, same thing. That's when you really trust your knot-tying skills because that is a lot of mast to come crashing down if things go flipside. So yeah. Sailing.

To me, sailing is a lot like cycling. They're both nature's machines, one runs on your body and the other relies on your intellect (and, you know, the wind) Breeze in your hair, just being one with the world, rockin out with your bad self. Mmmm ... hope the wind picks up soon.

The beer I had for breakfast wasn't bad
So I had one more for dessert

Friday, September 9, 2011

More things I learned

• I think cyclists are all tattooed so the bruises get lost in the ink

• Once you've finished pureeing chilies, do not look into the blender

• Men may not make passes at girls who wear glasses, but contacts dry out in your eyes as you ride.

• If you've biked to the store, don't buy eggs.

• Don't hop in a jeep to go off-roading in a construction zone. a) It's not fun and b) it's a fucking construction zone.

• Approximately one third of Dallas cars are audibly in need of repair.

• There is nothing quite as sad as a grown man on a BMX bike

• Getting hurt being active is better than being a fatass on a couch, but getting hurt being active can quickly render you a fatass on the couch

• Take out your contacts before you chop onions, not after

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

It was this or pound goldfish by the handful

A bike and an hour to kill? Lunchtime joyriding!

This is what America has come to

I work in the middle of over-developed nowhere. Who even lives out here? This right here is my version of hell. Little boxes all in a row. Nancy Botwin selling over-priced ganja. Doped-up housewives hiding bodies with a smile. In this vast suburban wasteland, one can find many things. Horror. Humiliation. Horses.

Yes. Horses.

Mmhmm. Horses. About two miles from the office is that path I took on my adventure from Bachmann Lake and that path cuts through a polo field and stables. So I saw horses. I also heard the gun range in the distance. I bet I know what they do when those horses start to get ooOold ...


That's right, fatty. On your bike ride slash run, you can stop along the way for some strength training. It looks like it's all resistance (probably because the weights would get jacked) but these things are scattered all along the trail because ... Las Colinas has nothing better to spend their money on? Roads? Schools? Anybody?

And that is an overpass in the background. This trail is not nearly as scenic or idyllic as it'd like to think it is. To be fair, it's not a highway. It's Royal Lane. Ay yi yi.

The fun part was getting back. On my way across an actual highway overpass, I tried to be the nice cyclist and stay out of motorists' way as much as possible. There's a painted line that creates about a foot-wide gulf between the curbed pedestrian walkway and the drivers' lanes, and I try to stay in that. So that's all the room I have and here comes some car zipping past at what feels like the closest part of the closest lane. I could have reached out and touched it.

With only 500 feet to the office, I followed it back to the parking lot. It was a buddy of mine—someone who, in addition to valuing my life as a human being, should also value my life as a co-worker and a friend. I was shocked and a little rattled and I hope like hell that came across in a "What the hell were you thinking?!?" There had been a miscommunication between her and her passenger when it came time to playing a joke on me, a joke I tried to explain could have killed me. Jeez louise ...

Ugh. That may be enough joyriding for me for the day.


So she just sent me this. And my angry little heart grew thee sizes.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

WhooooooWHEEE playing pinball with pedestrians

Mk so Labor Day for reals brought the end of summer with it. Sunday night rolls around and wham bam thank you ma'am temperatures drop 20 degrees. It went from sweltering to absolutely stunning in one rise and fall of the sun. So what's a gimp to do?

Ride, of course!

Unfortunately, before I could go anywhere, I had a little problem to fix. I'd gone to ride to the movies on Sunday night and discovered that I had a flat. I'd noticed something off, I was filling it a little every morning, but I hadn't realized it was so bad. Looked like a slow leak had finally caught up with me.

Slow leak got faster

So I went up to the shop and first off had to explain the ankle story, again. The guys at the shop got more of a kick out of it than my co-workers did, which is not exactly surprising. I don't think my co-workers have climbed more than stairs. I really wanted to fix it myself and I mainly went to the shop to make sure I didn't screw up. Which I did not. I am a beast.

My wheel, their supervision

Success! I was royally stoked and it was royally beautiful so I went for a little joyride. Realized I was on track with a route I ran training back in February so I took it, swung up the Katy and into Highland Park. Like, Highland Highland Park. Not north Highland Park where those houses maybe run into the seven figures. This was well below Beverly where these things spawn acres. These houses are stunning and the land and well-maintained roads make for a gorgeous ride. There weren't too many cars on the road either, it was smooth-sailing.

I wonder what the neighbors think of this one

Uh, yeah. It's like somebody tried to take De Stijl into the modern age way too quickly. Bauhaus done pretty damn wrong. No me gusta. Reitveld is rolling over in his fantastic chair.

A little more typical

That's more standard fare. I wonder if an SAE lives there. And if they paint those lions.

The view from that guy's lawn

Yeah, I learned my lesson from not taking enough pictures yesterday, and I may have taken too many today. So be post-warned. I have no idea what this lake is for but it's actually fairly nicely laid out. Pretty path, new benches, water fountains (not working last I checked, but a nice thought). Definitely not going to ride on the path, too narrow, but the road is smooth so no complaints here!

Ahh, Dallas

Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.

It was a gorgeous ride. Granted, I nearly got taken out trying to cross Mockingbird but almost isn't actually so I'm calling it a win. Also, there was totally a DPD car camped out just on the flipside of the Park trying to squeeze every last dime out of those stop sign-running Mercedes. Got a giggle out of that (and made sure I didn't run a stop sign ... )

The Katy Trail was the real adventure. Like seriously, that was mad crazypants. One of the first nice days since a brutal beatdown of a summer, so that't to be expected. But seriously, people? If you can't control your pets (or your kids) don't bring them to the trail, or at least not a peak hours. And don't walk down the very center of the trail. Like, really? Can I just post rules? I promise I won't swear (much)

Happiness is a girl and her bike

Monday, September 5, 2011

I'm back baby

As if we needed any further evidence that I'm completely insane

Still a little gimpy, the ankle hurts pretty bad without the wrap to support it but I'm riding again! You can't see in this photo but there's even some bruising around my toes where everything started to drain, kind of like how a bump to the head gives you a black eye a week later, but the ankle is back to being ankle shaped. I did some time on a stationary bike to make sure I'd be okay so I figured I'd give it a shot. (and a big thank you for all the well-wishes)

If you live in Dallas and you haven't checked out Sunflower Market (on Henderson at Greenville) I really suggest you do so! I loved it the first time I pulled up—there's a bike rack outside (also, the more I update this thing, the more pictures I realize I need to take) The place is a cross between Whole Foods and Trader Joes and priced appropriately somewhere in between. The produce can be dirt cheap—bell peppers for $0.50, celery for $0.99, 2 pounds of oranges for $3. Packaged goods can get more expensive but some of those you can also scoop out of a barrel. And you can get organic versions of, like, everything. And they have this fantastic store-brand bread where some loaf is always at $2.99 and it's only 50 calories a slice. Freaking love this place. I'll take more pictures the next time I go. Needless to say I filled my basket to the point I could barely get home and I had to tie my purse off to the bungee.

Bike grease on the leg.
I'm ba-ack!

Also, ladies, bike safety tip—wear a low-cut top. Men around here will notice boobs before they notice a bike.