My therapist will kill me for saying this, but nothing clears the head like a good old bike ride.
No amount of analyzing, discussing or dissecting a problem compares to throwing on some slightly manky lycra clothes, dragging the beast out of the basement, and making your legs go in circles while you propel yourself down the open road.
Is it the endorphins? The naughty thrill of wearing tight and revealing clothes in public? Or maybe it’s the simple delight of the wind in your face, like a dog with it’s head sticking out the car window. I used to get the same clarity of head from running, but in my case I think it was more a case of my body hurting so much I would forget any and all other problems in the sheer effort it took to keep down my lunch.
Take the shittiest day of the year (like today, for example), top it off with a bike ride, and you can almost feel human again. The pressure from the head is, by some miracle of biomechanics, transferred to the pedals and off the back of the bike in a poisonous slipstream, dissipating into the atmosphere. On a day like today I released more poison into the atmosphere than a Korean power plant.
If there was ever a good case for spending money on a good bike, I think I’ve found it. Therapy sessions can cost upwards of $80-$100 per hour, and given how much crap these poor buggers have to listen to I figure they earn every penny. If you are particularly prone to shitty days, this can really add up. For example, if you visit a therapist once every two weeks, you will spend approximately $2,600 in one year alone. By most reasonable standards, this will buy you one kick-ass bike. Another upside is that if you actually ride the thing, you probably won’t get fat, so you’ll have no need to spend money on stupid fad diet books, pilates classes, or bigger clothes.
Oh, and your ass will look fantastic.
So sorry Dr.V, I regret to inform you I have started seeing someone else. His name is Dr. Giant, and he kicks ass.