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We’re sick of existing indoors. Just ask my bicycle, who after a short spin on the horrid stationary trainer while watching the latest episode of the Walking Dead, is leaning against the doors of the utility room in our kitchen and wailing about wishing for a long spin out in the fresh air.
“There is no where to go in here!” laments my cabin ridden bicycle. It has spent the majority of this winter in the frigid temperatures of the garage, a few weeks ago readied for the season to come with a thorough going inspection and cleaning. Really all my bike needs is some fresh rubber.
I try to console my old friend with assurances that the weather will break in a week or two, the stranglehold the polar vortex has on the Chicago area gone, it’s last icy breath exhausted. We will go on daily spins, short hour long jaunts after work and long relaxed strolls along the rolling hills west of our house on the weekends, the open prairies and wetlands of Fermilab less than a mile from our driveway. This is what I dream of, aware that my dreams will come to reality soon.
Until then we go stir crazy. My bike will return to the garage tonight until tomorrow’s workout, once again lamenting the cold isolation.
Some morning I will hear it crying from the garage — “COME ON, FAT A@@, GET OUT HERE AND RIDE!!!”.
shenrydafrankmann 
I can come to your house and say that if you need me to, just because I’m that kind of friend.
You are first in line with many volunteers right behind you, although you may not want to be behind me.
Can I just yell from the garage?
I leave the light on.
i am willing to email that to you as a backup on days when ned does not stop by.
It’s nice to know there is a support network out there that can handle the sight of me in bike shorts.
I’m sorry to correct you publicly, but I translated the words of your bike. It actually said, “Shower that stanky rump before you sit on me EVER again…and your rides are limited to 30 minutes, too!”
Don’t shoot the messenger, man.
Proper seat hygiene is essential. My bike knows that. You speak bike-ese. I may have to take advantage of that. Even fat asses like you can can be useful.
My fantastic fat ass has never had a bike seat its been on back talk it, so you could say my fat ass is fabulous and yours is fetid.
pffffftttttt