I literally woke up this morning having dreamed of riding my bike. It was a leisurely slow ride over the Longfellow and into Kendall. It was a cool clear day, I was wearing shorts and a sweatshirt and had a brisk breeze at my back.

Then I woke up late having snoozed for 45 minutes, skipped a shower, and took the hot smelly T to work. As the red line crossed the river, I saw numerous lucky folks enjoying the day riding to work, slightly bundled as the weather has settled into a cool summer week. It has been three weeks since I’ve been able to ride and I’ve been going a bit stir crazy, due partially to my inactivity and partially to the uncertainty of the source of my knee pain and issues. While I’m waiting for my doctor to get back from vacation and jump through some HMO hoops, I’m finding myself self-diagnosing on webmd. So far I have a torn meniscus, ACL injury, and Iliotibial band syndrome. Eesh, I need to quit this shit before I decide my whole leg has gone lame and I hack it off with a dull letter opener.

I’ve begun reading Teaching Cancer to Cry, which has put my aches, pains, and complaining into perspective. Below is Ezra’s reaction to being told he won’t be able to ride his bike anymore due to a cancerous tumor, and after the jump is a photo of the assless bike he built. Pretty amazing…

An Assless bike! He doesn’t want want me sitting on a saddle, because the tumor is SO close to the *erm* surface that it’s likely to get pressed on and beaten at and become generally unhappy and more prone to spread. So, just dispense of the saddle! If it’s not even there, I won’t be tempted to sit on it. I’ll just ride BMX style.. pedal pedal pedal coooooaaaaaaast.

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