I want to pee my own bed (Written Sun, 28 Nov 2004 18:38:00 GMT)
t’s 12:38pm. I have been lying here since 2:30am after drinking plenty of water before I went to bed, I thought of making a trip to the bathroom but wrote it off in favour of labouriously clambering into the cave-type platform that is my bedroom. I am in pain.
So, what have I done to injur myself? If you know me well, you know a few of the stupid darwin-award-wining things I’ve done. And you, along with me are convinced that I will die a death such that even my closest friends will snicker as they recount my last few moments on this earth. So what was this spectacular event that brought me to actually think that being known as a bed-wetter would be less painful than walking to the bathroom? Well, it won’t come to anyone’s surprise that it was on a bicycle. But what will surprise you is that it was on a stationary bike. Let me reiterate that statement.
I, Simon Wex, crippled myself on a stationary bike.
It was wednesday during a spin class at the gym. These high-end stationary bikes have what is called a “fixed-wheel”. That means that the cranks are connected directly by a chain to the rear wheel (or in this case a large rotational mass). Theses bikes also have clipless pedals, which are the biking equivilent to ski bindings. So sing along with me now, “The hip-bone’s connected to the leg bone, the leg bone’s connected to the crank arm, the crank arm’s connected to the large rotational mass.” – Okay, so it doens’t quite have the ring to it required to make it a childrens classic, but you get the idea.
With this information in mind, let’s say that someone was in the middle of a sprint, and the solid machined aluminum wheel were to be doing an equivilent of 50kph, and that very same person were to suddenly get an odd cramp in their calf and try to “coast”, it wouldn’t work so well. Actually, it would be just like trying to accellerate from 0 to 50 kph in no time flat, on a bicycle, backwards. Can your legs do that? As I found out, mine can’t. This happened to me a few minutes into the hour long spin class. A spin class like this one is basically off-season training for some pretty hard-core cyclists. So for the next hour, not wanting to give up, I beat my legs into further submission, and when I dismounted, my legs almost couldn’t support me.
The next day I was a bit sore, the following evening I had a bit of trouble getting into bed. The next morning I woke up and to my surprise, I experienced the most physically painful moment since I caught David Kuzyk’s lacross ball with my left testicle, in grade six. It wasn’t getting run over by a bus, it wasn’t landing on my face after gapping an access road on my bike like last year; it was putting on my fucking socks. An activity that most people, myself included can do without feeling forced to wail out prophanities. It took me 25 minutes to shuffle myself into bed last night and take off my clothes. I still have a sock on because I just gave up. And now the bathroom is so, so far away.
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