#30daysofbiking

Now that I’m done recapping my holiday, I can get back to raving about Tasmania.

Late last year I started getting a hankering to get the Night Owl back on the road again. It had spent too long gathering dust in my dining room (look, you can’t keep a bike that beautiful outside in the elements!) because I’d a) started a full-time job and b) gotten a little gun-shy of riding because the last time I rode it, the seat wasn’t fixed on properly and I didn’t fall off but I put my back out trying to ride the rest of the way home on a poorly-fitted seat. Despite my bike technician friend Jarod coming around and fixing it for me, I remained gun-shy and avoidant.

But late last year the weather was warming up and I was giving the Night Owl the ol’ side-eye… and then I broke my ankle, so the dust continued to gather. But THEN! My ankle healed, and the weather stayed lovely, and yet I kept coming up with excuses.

Until, on the 31st of March, I stumbled across #30daysofbiking. A friend mentioned it on twitter and it was a bit like fate. Despite it being a bit late at night for me to be making rational decisions, I pledged, and that was it. I was in. I couldn’t go back on my pledge!

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Pretty pleased with myself.

So, I did it. Well—ok, I almost did it. I did it to the best of my ability, which ended up being 25 days out of 30. I wish I’d written down the exact reasons for the days I didn’t ride. I know for one of them, I had my grandparents visiting from interstate. At least one other day, maybe more, it rained all day. Excuses, excuses. Technically I sat on my bike inside my house and even wheeled it back and forward a little bit, for authenticity’s sake, but hey—after not riding at all for over a year, 25/30 ain’t too shabby.

I’ve seen a minor improvement in my fitness, too. See, Hobart is built on a series of hills. Riding into town from my place is a dream; I barely have to pedal at all. It’s all downhill! Gradual declines, but still declines the whole way. Coming home from the centre of town is the opposite—whatever blocks you choose to travel up, they’re exactly that. UP. At the start of the month there was always a block or two that I’d have to get off the bike and walk up. The Night Owl is pretty but she’s not built for hills. She’s not quite a fixie but in Hobart she may as well be! Three internal gears make things only slightly easier. Anyway, the moral of the story is that I can now ride almost the entire way home, and that’s having tried at least three different routes. I can ride up ’em all. Until I get to my street, that is, but that’s another challenge for another month.

Thanks, 30 Days of Biking. Thanks for getting the Night Owl to fly again, and thanks for getting me back in the saddle.

New York, I love you.

Let it be known that I’m really good at procrastinating. I finished the text for this post exactly three months after I flew out of JFK Airport at the end of my holiday. I guess I’ve been holding onto it, savouring it, because once the blog posts are done then it’s properly over and I can’t swan about indulging myself any more. My holiday photos are dropping off the start of my photo stream, one by one, and each one to go is a pin-prick of sadness.

The positive of all this time is that my broken ankle is 98% recovered. I’ve been using the 98% description for a couple of weeks now. My foot doesn’t hurt much at all, except when I pivot quickly, but I don’t think ankles are really designed for that anyway. I’ve got a lot of cool scar tissue in my ankle that I can push around, thanks to all the ligaments I tore good and proper, but yeah. All healed up and walking on two legs like I was never crippled—so I guess these posts kind of take me back to those painful days of forward-planning and disappointments and struggling through my holiday as best I could. But I gosh darn did it, and it’s a story I’ll have forever.

Tourista Cool Beans.

Tourista Cool Beans.

So let’s finish the story. Here’s my recap of the last week of my holiday, picking up from the end of my last blog post.

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