Athletic Me

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       My name is Desirae and I hate moving.

        

        Let’s get a bit more specific: I hate running, jogging, hiking, and most conventional forms of exercise. That being said, I feel the need to mention what moving I do like, lest you consider me to be a recluse who lies in bed all day. I do enjoy walking (not too quickly, though), dancing, swimming, yoga-ing, and stretching. ­Most forms of exercise and movement are simply tolerated in my life either to keep myself fit or to be socially acceptable. 

        Today I found myself wanting to ride a motorcycle. That’s a problem primarily because I do not have a motorcycle. Somehow in my super-elite-logical mind I decided that riding a bicycle is like riding a motorcycle. I went to my closet and chose a cute exercise outfit, selected a helmet to match (since I couldn’t remember which was mine). I pumped up my tires and put on my not-so-stylish-but-oh-so-athletic sunglasses. After ensuring that I looked athletic and like I knew what I was doing, I put in my headphones and started up my new playlist, which I named “iBike,” because I’m just that athletic. I hopped on my awesome mountain bike only to sheepishly return after doing a circle in our street; my seat was too low. If anything that should have reminded me how long it had been since I had been out on my bike, which would further remind me that I do not like biking, but my mind was still misfiring… apparently. Having adjusted my seat and reassuring myself that I was the embodiment of athleticism, I jumped back on my bike and took off. Here’s a chronological progression of my thoughts:

        -       Ya, I’m so athletic!
        -       Biking isn’t as easy as I imagined…
        -       This is nothing like riding a motorcycle…
        -       This is the worst idea I have ever had.
        -       I wonder how I could attach a motor to this stupid thing…

        I’m not sure how far I rode, but I listened to nearly an hour and fifteen minutes worth of music. About two blocks away from my house I decided I needed a break to catch my breath, let my legs rest, and try to maintain my athletic image by drinking out of my legit water bottle. Mid-break I was struck with the realization that if I didn’t sit down or start biking I was going to vomit on some nice person’s lawn. I quickly began biking and made it to the stoplight one block away from my house. I pushed the crosswalk button, but before the light changed my body quickly reminded me that if I didn’t start riding or sit down I was not only going to vomit, but I would probably pass out too! That was a nice thought. Weighing my options, I realized that I needed to sit down since the light wasn’t going to change in time. 

        I set my bike on the grass and sat down leaning my back on the stoplight pole. I remember thinking to myself, “I probably still look athletic.” As I was reassuring myself of this, though, a car pulled up and a woman jumped out and ran to me asking if I was okay. She thought I had wrecked and was in extreme medical need, or something like that. Just like that my athletic image was shattered. After explaining to her that I was fine and just resting, I picked my bike back up and made the block-long ride home only to collapse on my lawn and vow to never be so stupid again.