So after an agonizing, frustrating, month-long haiatus of biking and all forms of exercize due to various Medical Shenanigans, I'm back in the saddle again this morning, just in time to save the remaining shreds of my sanity (and to realize I didn't get all fat and out of shape like I felt, yay).
It's 6AM, and I'm toodling through the back road suburbs at a comfortable pace through the fog, headlight and rear lights blazing in no traffic at all. I see what I think is my headlight reflecting off an expected stop sign and slow down to a stop, wondering why my headlight is bobbing so much that the sign is flickering.
Upon stopping, I realize that I've come to a full and complete stop at a flickering, glowing, nylon pumpkin decorating someone's lightpost, three houses or so down from the stop sign. I pause to ponder how wise it is for me personally to be on a bicycle if I can't tell whether I'm awake enough to distinguish between a glowing gourd and a stop sign. I recognize that it's safer than me driving, and continue on my way.
One mile later, I get a flat, right beside the First Student bus depot in Monroeville. About 20 bus drivers/ Access employees drove in and out and idled beside me without asking if I was ok. That had me a tidge miffed, until I found what caused my flat, which is far more enraging:
It's blurry because it's so tiny the camera can't handle it. It appears to be either a roadkill bone shard, or small rock. I'm hoping for rock, since I touched it.
So - given that roads are essentially entirely made up of this substance, do I need thicker tires, thicker innertubes, or is this the Universe's way of punishing me for not having a patch kit and pump with me at all times?
I think the pumpkin was an omen.
I like stories of no flats, wear is sad though. At least it's predictable!