Today is National Bike to Work Day as I reported on The Terminal extremely early this morning. Why was I up posting that early you ask? This is in part because my new career forces me to be up before the crack of dawn attempting to figure out what’s going to go on that day. NOTE: As all of us know, it still never really ends up being good anyway 🙁 I also had an inkling to do something that I’d looked forward to doing as a result of the job change: ride my bike.
Unfortunately, the body just didn’t feel like moving much this morning, even for a simple seven-mile bike ride. Things have definitely changed.
Now, it’s been nearly 5 years since I started riding my current set of wheels. I got them from John (incidentally the same person from whom I received Ed (a.k.a. Whitekitty) – who appears to be doing much better). It was a replacement for what I’d jokingly called my Ford Explorer early on in my school career – a black Murray with front suspension. Back when I had the “Explorer”, most SCAD students didn’t drive to class; you saw a network of cliques and bikers weaving the streets of the historic district.
As the college grew and I got older, I joined the parade of drivers, severely reducing my dependence on what had been my primary form of transportation. One visit to the doctor about a year before I moved here shocked me back into the need for self-propelled motion. A return to living in the downtown area didn’t really hurt either.
During that time, I rode the bike to work every day (except when the forecast called for rain). I averaged about 3 miles a day on the bike, doing the ride to and from work twice a day (went home for lunch whenever possible) and then riding to the gym to work out most evenings. I’d bike to Grayson Stadium if the opportunity presented itself. And it was nothing to do a 25-mile ride on the weekend or ride out to my Jaycees meetings on Tuesdays (though they’d insist that I get a ride back home) or to ride in the rain (I didn’t think I was going to melt like I seem to now 🙂 )
I thought that by working and living in the same neighborhood, I’d be able to take advantage of that exercise again. So far, the hustle and bustle associated with start up has kept that from being an option. I really miss the release it gave me from life’s problems and the lack of stress that seemed to exist after a ride, or exercise in general.
My run-ins with Birmingham’s finest
Published by Andre on June 9, 2007I don’t seem to have the best luck with my limited run-ins with Birmingham’s finest.
I got pulled over by a police officer as I turned into The Summit late Saturday afternoon. He seemed nervous as he walked up alongside my car. I’ve had some insane things occur with my car, which I affectionately call “Big Blue” since it was purchased during my working for a corporation phase. It’s the lone remnant of that time. It definitely doesn’t look perfect as as result of those insane things; the entire left side is torn up.
Anyhow, I was told that I’d not renewed my tag as of yet. I’m still a Yankee at heart, so I still call them license plates. I suddenly remembered that I’d never received notice of renewal. I was told that it didn’t matter and that I should have known. This would be true if I’d grown up here, but I’m still used to the notion of something much more logical with regards to renewal, like renewing based on your birthday month or something like that. I told him that I’d recently moved and he said “yeah, I know all about that,” which still puzzles me. When he returned with my ticket, he had still written down my old address on it.
Now this is the point where I must say that this officer was ten times nicer than the guys I dealt with my last and only other experience with Birmingham’s finest. I slight tangent for a moment…
I was visiting Birmingham in 2000 for City Stages and I’d just dropped my friend Chris off at home because he was sick. I for some crazy reason, wanted to go back and see James Brown perform at the Coca Cola Stage. I ended up finding a parking spot next to St. Paul’s United Methodist Church (a placement I still find funny considering it’s directly across the street from the Civil Rights Institute and what follows).