Advertising isn’t always truthful. But what if it was? This is why I don’t make the big bucks.
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Advertising isn’t always truthful. But what if it was? This is why I don’t make the big bucks.
Context: I had just gotten home from a 35 mile bike ride…in the rain and hail…with a flat tire. I call my fiancé.
Donita: Are you coming over?
Me: Would you like me to?
Donita: That’s a dumb question.
Me: Should I take a shower first?
Donita: Do you smell really bad?
Me: That’s a dumb question.
The average Joe will tell you that treadmills are useless because people who own them never use them. I’m going to argue with this way of thinking, but not in the way that you might expect. Treadmills are a mistake, not because they’re never used, but because they exist in the first place.
Let’s take a look at the subject in question. A treadmill is a virtual reality device that artificially simulates a cardiovascular activity that involves moving the feet (AKA walking). To say the same thing in non-technical terms, YOU DON’T NEED A TREADMILL TO WALK. Buying a $300-$1000 machine to walk on is like typing on a keyboard with gold plated chopsticks when your fingers work just fine. Or like pretending that Jesus is sitting in the chair next to you when he’s already in the air that you’re breathing. Why just pretend to walk when you can have the real thing?
Despite how worthless the treadmill is, I still admire the guy who invented it. How many other people could take a simple, essential, everyday activity such as walking and turn it into a billion dollar market? The sad thing though, is not that people shell out money for the equivalent of nothing, but that with or without a treadmill people are too lazy to even just walk to the mailbox.
I just heard about the new cordless jump rope. It’s supposed to help clumsy people from tripping on the rope. It definitely sounds like a solution to the problem, but I’m wondering what a “jump rope” should be called without the rope. Just “jump”? But then if you only pretend to jump over the pretend rope, you don’t even need to jump. So if there’s no rope and no jump, what should it be called?
I seriously need to find some kind of training program to help me control my own strength. Without even trying I’ve sheared off two strong metal keys, ripped the handle off of a pliers, and knocked over a sky scraper. Okay, so the last one is a slight exaggeration, but the other ones really happened. The sky scraper is okay, but now what little is left of my key has a sharp edge that’s scratching everything else on my keychain. But look on the bright side, now I have a handy concealed weapon to use when I’m attacked by the neighbor’s evil pooch. So anyway, if the training doesn’t work then I suppose an industrial strength, heat treated, drop forged, reinforced steel pliers will have to take the place of my crippled one. And I just hope my stubby key still works so I can get to work in the morning.
Finally, the time had come for the annual Speed The Light bike-a-thon fund raiser. Now since I actually ride bike once in a while, biking 52 miles in one day at 10 miles an hour wouldn’t usually be that hard for me, as compared to the typical modern day teenager who never rides bike. Speaking of which, how come people never ride bike anymore? Anyway, I loaded up my backpack with water in case people would get thirsty along the way (which they did). When we were about to leave, I had just finished pumping up my tires when I found out that one of the kids, a young girl, didn’t have a bike. Not to make that big of a deal about it, but WHAT KIND OF A PERSON DOESN’T HAVE A BIKE?! Sorry about that. Anywho….luckily the youth pastor had a couple of spare bikes, which saved the day…almost. We tried lowering the seat of one of them so the girl could ride it, but the bolt was nicely rusted solid and we had no tools. Another small problem was that the front wheel was perfectly…bent, wobbling, and about to fall off. Okay, so that one was out. The other bike was, to say the most, in a little better condition. At least the wheels would turn anyway. But the interesting thing about this bike was that, well, it was sort of the Geo Metro of bikes. It was a sub-compact fold-up bike with wheels the size of nickels. Now, me being the extremely sweet and thoughtful person that I am, (so they tell me) I let the girl use my bike. To make a long, boring, and extremely tiring story short, I rode the little beeter fifty-two (that’s 52) miles. Ironically, the hardest part of the trip wasn’t going the 52 miles; the hardest part of the trip was actually the easiest 8 miles of the trail, which was almost completely downhill. This was because I had the privilege of watching everyone else glide down the hill with their luxury 26 inch wheels while I pedaled a hundred miles an hour non-stop on my little tricycle…with a flat tire…and a major charlie horse…
This week I got my road bike tuned up and I took it out for a ride. I decided on the rout I wanted to take, which was about ten miles total, and I took off. I chose a short rout because the season had just begun, and I wanted to start out small. But I felt pretty confident, so I didn’t bring along any tools or cellphone or anything. The conditions were perfect for riding. The temperature was just right and there wasn’t much wind. It felt really good to get out and ride again. But there was one small incident during the ride that I suppose could have turned out a little better. On the second half of the trip, about four miles from home, I shifted gears as I came to a large, steep hill. My bike was working great since it had just gotten tuned up, but for some reason my chain wanted to put up a fight, and it came off. “No prob,” I thought, and I jumped off my bike to put the chain back on. But if you know me, you know that I’m not that lucky. The chain was stuck. I worked at it for probably at least ten minutes with no tools, and no luck. I finally gave up, picked up my bike, and ran the rest of the way home. I guess sometimes you get your exercise whether you want to or not.