It stands for Freakin Maniac.
Which is how I ride my bike.
Like a freakin maniac.
And yes, that's right, I averaged 14.9 miles per hour the other day:
Women and children screamed in delight/horror as I passed by.
Dogs howled and scampered away with tail between legs.
Clothes flew off of joggers like Charlie Brown on the pitching mound as I blew by.
Time and space warped in my wake.
Dark clouds with thunder and lightning and hail storms followed me on my path of destruction.
Cops called in for back up.
3.5 GAGILLION watts of power baby!
Okay, not really. About the cops I mean.
I'll tell you what, it felt like I was wearing blue spandex and a red cape.
Now I should have called this day epic.
Now I'm kinda sorry I used that title for the other post.
Now I have another inane reference to radio that I can use to amuse you, the reader, for another year.
Now I'm looking out the window wondering if I can do it again.
Days like that, I've come to realize are rare. The last time I did this was back in June:
I log all my rides so that I can relive my past glory.
And failures.
Looking back at my old rides are of a source of depression rather than optimism. Sometimes it seems like I'm getting slower.
Then every once in a while a day comes along like the other day when everything fell into place. Mainly it was the lack of or absense of wind.
No, Christina Rossetti, I did not see the wind that day:
The goal I suppose, is to be able to do this all the time. Believe me, I wish I could.
Most non cyclist folk just don't understand the kind of effort it takes to bring your average up by a mile per hour. Or even a half mile.
I swear it must be some algebraic post calculus cosign exponentially quadratic function for it ain't easy.
I mean it takes effort.
Crazy effort. Crazy like a maniac effort.
That's right.
You have to ride like a maniac.
You have to ride like a Freakin Maniac.
And don't forget to tune in to The Flat Tire, that's 14.9 on your FM dial.
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