A tight fit (just like last year)
Each year, around this time, I go through a ritual. Call it “filled with the best of intentions”, but I change the road tire from my bicycle and install the roller tire. An important distinction.
In another life, I’d be rich and I’d have bikes devoted to the moment. Or, at least, a second rim, so that changing things out would be silly. I’m forced, through economic pressure, to go down this road. I have a set of tire irons, which are usually rediscovered during the afternoon. They’re small, they’re dark and they hide from me.
Next, I keep the appropriate tire and tube together. Missed that the first year, and spent more time than I care to remember, trying to force fit things. No more. One small job remains.
The fit is precise. I leave a certain amount of knuckle tissue behind, trying to get the roller tire to “embark”. Painful. This year, after starting the job, I left the two pieces some time to get reacquainted, before returning for the final push. And now the job is done. The skewer is also swapped out, and the pump was ready. Again, I’ll come back later and add the magic amount of pressure.
Still not sleeping soundly. I’ve gone to the point where I now have two medical appointments booked for the next week. Either they cure me, or they declare me done. I like breathing. I miss it wnen the action doesn’t fulfill (by filling my lungs).
And the dog took me for a walk in the woods, this afternoon. Seeking fresh air, and wanting to know if things “down below” looked as they did, last year.
