Sunday, February 13, 2011

Death of a Trainer......


The DEED happened this morning at first light….. At the break of dawn, I could hear it smirking and chuckling as it sensed my footsteps on the basement stairs. As I velcroed my bike shoes the chuckle turned to an insidious laughter as it anticipated the certain mounting followed by the hum of the pedals making small circles of death….

Lashed to the bars with my heart rate monitor band and my feet mercilessly bolted to the steel of its mouth and bottom bracket it knew it had the upperhand in entrapping me for hours as it tortured my mind and body…..

But no….. what is this? What happened? I crept slowly past the trainer…..I gave it a wide berth as I made my way outside to the garage and the trusty steel mountain bike that could handle the remainder of the ice on the road ways… With this chosen steed, I slowly pump up the tires that had wilted in the winter air of my dank garage all the while ignoring the threats of violence emanating from the trainer’s bolts back inside. I run my gloved fingers over the forks and check the quick releases while I feel the heat blasting from inside accompanied by the sparks flying from the spurned trainer's support stand.

As the training room door closed I could hear it howling and cajoling me back with temptations of Tour de France videos and warm feet…. But no.

When I returned this time it was with the means of destruction. The howls turned to pleading as the hex screws lit up like a defenseless animal when it saw what I had in my hands….

The trainer fought gallantly as I ripped it from the cement floor and drug it towards the door. A swirling derbish of metal, plastic and rubber gripped the door frame but to no avail.

And then it was over. I don’t remember the flash from the muzzle but I know it woke the neighborhood. It went quickly. That is the way of the seasons. You will torture me no longer…. (at least for this season…… hopefully!!)
TCOPE

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