Tuesday, April 25, 2017

As seen from the BYB

It's a rainy Anzac day in the nation's capital and not fit for outside riding. So it's exercise bike time which, as it turns out, is not that fun. The saving grace is I watch tellie on the laptop.

Getting outside on a nice day on the BYB is deeply cathartic; you feel stress and fear blown from your body as you sail through the air. 

Occasionally you see some kewl things. 

I have seen:

The autumnal leaves cascading from trees as I rode ala the third act of Excalibur

A shorter, stouter Seth Rogan; and

Julian Assange.

The last one was a shock given his purported self-imprisonment in the embassy of Ecuador but there you have it, walking fancy free in Canberra. 

I hope he doesn't get droned while he's here. 

Sunday, April 23, 2017

Epic Cook Off

I had an Epic Cook Off—in title case so I can intialise to ECO. It was sparked by a casual mention of a topic and it cut straight through my ego defence and I lost it; I had fight AND flight. I ended up crying in the street and it took about an hour to come down from it. 

Fully ghastly. I had to have a couple of drinks and a shower to take the edge off; my top was soaked from rage and scare sweat.  

I loathe that I had an ECO—it's been a while since I had one. But treatment brought up a whole bunch of the sads and the topic lanced through me like one of my sperm splitting an ovum

I'm going to be better about dealing with it and am thinking of ways to meaningfully resolve it. 

Fucking childhood horrors. WHAM! All of a sudden you're back the fuck in it.

Unwellness for no win.

Friday, April 21, 2017

Pringle fights back

A shard slipped between my top front teeth and sliced into the webbing of my gum. It fucking hurt. I had to douse the shard in pepsi to remove it.

I don't like food that fights back.

Did not freak

I have PTSD and one of my triggers is loud and unpleasant noises.

There's tree lopping happening. The noise is monstrous. I stood outside the shed and bathed in it, getting used to it, until I'd had enough then calmly got earphones and distanced myself. My tolerance for this audio shit has increased; it is not forcing me to flee. I have protection on but can still discern it but the discernment is not causing the trigger to pull.

I am astounded at what I can cope with now. Past me would have fled gibbering up the street. Now me is having coffee and is about to eat some hot cross buns.

Recovery progress for the win.

Wednesday, April 19, 2017

Big helicopter

Me---"I may be a big person with big problems but at least I have a big helicopter!"

theboy---"You don't have a helicopter."


Monday, April 17, 2017

BYB to the outer limits

thewife fixed the gears so I took the BYB for a super ride. I went to a part of town I've never been to and followed a path to see where it ended; puffing lightly as the bike and I forged up a hill.

The path ended at the literal edge of town, in a paddock with the freeway a short way away. I furtled back, zipping through yet more streets I have never been in before. 

Then I got some Pringles for the chickens. Because I love them and I love feeding them Pringles.

The BYB; exercise now featuring actual fun.


Sunday, April 16, 2017

BYB goes deep

The BYB is mostly good---save for the gear chain slipping---and I've been riding it out and about my neighborhood. Today I went out farther than I've been and zipped about places I've only experienced walking or driving.

It was zen; the riding, the breath, the wind and the speed.

BYB is a pleasure machine.


Wednesday, April 12, 2017

Inside and out

I'm suffering abdominal spasms. I can see my stomach ripple ... then moments later my guts ripple as well. 

It is eye watering.

I don't think I had dairy but it's similar to that kind of discomfort.

Rippling guts, inside and out, make it hard to sleep. So I'm distracting myself with a biography of Charles Manson.

He was full of shit and wind, too.

Yet another early morn in bloat land, population me.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

BYB pending

BYB got fixed but has a knock and needs a tweak. So I had to ride the exercise bike. It sucked. There's been a reorg in the shed and there was a white plastic bag with Christmas lights where one of the battery operated strands was on. I kept riding as I sorted through the bag to find which strand was operated by what pack. It took 700 metres and one and a half sessions clicking switches until I found the right one.

Some of the lights had snow crystal surrounds of hard pointy plastic. They dug through the bag and into my chest. 

It was both painful and a little weird.

Come back, BYB.

Saturday, April 08, 2017

BYB de-rezzed

I de-rezzed it by snapping the chain again. This after having had the chain come off five times. 

But, after it snapped, the electric motor still worked and I zipped along at a tasty clip and thrilled at the journey. I got more shout outs from people I passed who were excited to see the BYB.

And why not? It's most exciting. 

Hopefully the BYB will be re-rezzed and off I'll go at a tasty clip. At one point I got about a kay and a bit before the chain came off and it was a glorious kay and a bit; heart pumping, legs pumping, wind thumping. 

The BYB will be back and I will get the fuck back on it.

My mother was confined to a scooter—never a trolley—for the last decade plus of her life. But it had a decent speed to it. She scared people when she was in the old arcade, which had a down slope about a 120 metres long with a light dog leg, as she'd fire down there at max speed as she barked "coming through" in clipped British.

I get the appeal. To go from no legs to mobility, even if artificial, is sensuous; you delight in experiences you'd thought lost. Riding a bike in the open air on a nice day is insanely great. And now I've tasted it I want it again and again and again.

All those years of tormented bike riding in a shed muscled up my legs for getting mobility back with the BYB. I'll still use the exercise bike on those days I can't ride or when the BYB is out of action. But if the weather is clement and the BYB is free then the BYB for exercise it will be.

Outdoor cycling; after near twenty years of not doing it I'm back and this time with electro-mechanical assist.

Technology enhancing quality of life for the win.

Friday, April 07, 2017

BYB is rezzed

The BYB was fixed. I watched it happen from the back of a decaying wooden rocking horse out in the carport. The chain was a link too long so the new one was shorter. The frame of the bike had to be lengthened a tad to make it nice and tight.

The repair dude was dressed in typical nothing-to-imagine biking Lycra so that answered the "do they wear it when not biking?" question. He turned out to be a fellow hippie, those whose hips are now half or all machine, and we swapped battle stories of suffering then recovery.

I took the BYB for another test run and ended up in a place I've never been in the near ten years in this part of town. It was beyond my walking range from when I walked so off I went up a mild hill into places unknown. The path ended at a mighty tunnel with a bush trail beyond.

Battery low from wielding my form I furtled home. Only once did the chain slip and I got it back on with the first attempt.

It is insanely great to experience my surrounds in relative comfort and at speed. Before when I walked I was always in pain. On the bike it hurts now and then, but only a bit and not for long. Slow and yuck has given way to nimble and not.


Pocket litter

I ate an eyelash
It fell into my cereal. It was either eat it or fish it out. I don't have the dexterity to fossick for follicles so I ate it. But I swallowed it without biting so I don't know what it tastes like. Chicken hair?

Killed the chain on the BYB
The chain kept slipping off and eventually snapped. I had the bike on its side then back up multiple times in attempting to get the chain on but failed. Then the snapping happened. I was frustrated and had a light yell but then got over it. At least the electric motor still worked and I was able to get back home. The BYB is so much more fun than riding an exercise bike; that's pure drudgery.

Hooray for capability gain! Boo for capability loss.

I played Lego
I helped build a kewl base for criminals who reused blocks from a police station set. Now that's sticking it to the (plastic) man!

In our house the police are the "p'po".

Trump gives me the dumps
The whole Trump thing makes me sad. Each day when I wake I hope I'll swipe on to see he's resigned. The job is beyond him; he's had his fun winning office but he doesn't seem to be enjoying the doing part---and neither is anyone else enjoying his doing. He either doesn't do it right or doesn't do it at all. 

My suspicions were aroused of his lackadaisical attitude to actual governance by the solicitation by Trump from Fabio on the romance novel portrait model's view who would make a good Secretary of State.

And that happened before he took office; before!

This wrong trouser of time sucks hairy balls. Hey, if balls are your thing then go (those) nuts; but I am presuming it's the hair that's the core of the issue what with pubes itching at the uvula.

Trump's presidency is big hairy ball sucking for everyone; everyone---even him.

And I am betting his nasty manky man carpet in no way matches the gilded, combed over drapes.

Wednesday, April 05, 2017

Born to be mild

I took the BYB out for a ride---wearing tracksuits pants and thus using them for actual exercise.

I went along the paths I used to tread years before when I walked for exercise before shredding my hip ... from walking for exercise.

I know; what a fucked thing.

But there I was on paths trod before and instead of painful walking I was zipping along on the bike in comfort and blissed out on the rush of wind on my face. I ended up at the top part of the suburb then onto a bike path for the shops, cruising at 30 kph from the slope and gentle terrain. 

That's when the gear chain slipped off.

The electro-mechanical chain was still on and still got to the shops. Then after shopping I crouched low to fix the chain. The squatting was deeply awful and my tremble-hands added to the challenge but I was able to actually do it---me with minimal dexterity and agility both.

With glee I glided home, with downhill taking me a third of the way without power or pedal applied.

Later the gear chain slipped again and a tradie with his two kids stopped to give me a hand, dropping to his stomach on the ground to get at the problem.

I took theboy for a ride to a playground for spaceships and aliens then zipped home again. A couple of kids were encountered there and back who called out love for the BYB.

In every computer game I've played having a power or item that gave you speed was always a prime desire; speed gives you an edge and in combat games is a force-multiplier. 

I force-multiplied my life with the BYB.


Tuesday, April 04, 2017

Anchorman sadness

We've been introducing comedy movies we love to theboy. On Sunday I showed him Anchorman.

He loved it---right up to the part where Baxter the dog gets punted off the bridge

He cried for the rest of the movie. I told him Baxter was okay and returns to save the day but he was on a jag and couldn't help himself. He still found the movie hilarious---he loved Brick the most---but he'd be laughing, stop, then cry again.

I have PTSD. The sound of a child crying is a reaction trigger.

But I was committed to the movie and him seeing it so I steeled myself through it and experienced the almost same journey of happy--sad--happy--sad.

That's life with a psychological injury; life still happens and you have to deal with its impact on your injury.

Monday, April 03, 2017

Various things

BYB is grouse
Apart from the gears not quite gripping if you stop pedaling in third the BYB is going great guns.  I took theboy to school in the back cargo basket and we zoomed along. His weight makes the ride more stable. Later I took it for a ride up paths in the hills then enjoyed speeding down said hills---something I have not done in a decade or more. You get up a sweat and it can be grueling on hills but so far I've not had to rise in the saddle---something I cannot do with a decaying right hip.

I've gone from limited mobility to lots and it's most awesome---the to school ride was a peak experience.

The challenge 
It was Sunday and I laid down a challenge of sing talking until thewife got home. A beat after accepting the challenge he yelled, and not sing talking it, "I'M OUT!" ala Kramer in the masturbation challenge in Seinfeld. I laughed long and loud.

Rattled awake
I was on deck in the morning and got woken up by a rapid series of taps. It was startling. "You're supposed to be looking after me." I'd set an alarm but was brutally woken 38 minutes early. Afterwards I had to wait for my cleaned pajamas to dry before heading back to sleep for two hours at noon. I dreamed about Hemingway. 

It was quite the day.

Saturday, April 01, 2017

Big Yellow Bike stacked

It was on the second shakedown cruise of the Big Yellow Bike, for I have named it thus as opposed to just describing it, that the stack happened. I tried to take a turn at an angle from a car-carved road through grass and there was a contributing divot twixt grass and pavement. I had all but stopped when the toppling happened and it was slow enough that I could consciously enjoy the trip but physics was such I could not do a thing about it.

I scraped my palm heels and tumbled over onto dirt, rock and green but apart from numbness in my left hand and a sore shoulder I was okay. The bike basket got dented, the clip on never-used solar bike light snapped off and my warning bell split into its component parts and I had to work out how to put it back together. The BYB got scuffed up as well.

Lucky I got the helmet because I could have had it a lot worse.

But that's the purpose of the shakedown; to test how far you can push a piece of kit and push yourself pushing it.

I got sweaty and my heart sang as I flitted through the cool of a nice afternoon.

Mobility enhancement for the win.