A little over a week ago, my wife and I took a very nice, long (for me) ride on some of the bike paths I mentioned in a previous post. We were four or five miles away from the end of what would have been about a 20-mile route when my seat began to rotate. This was kind of weird. I was riding along and suddenly my saddle began turning on its own—my bike was pointing in one direction, and my butt was pointing in a slightly different direction. This was more than a little disconcerting to me, and for the next couple of miles, I was shimmying all over the path. I thought I was going to fall off the silly thing.
So I got to a suitable stopping point and called my daughter to come retrieve me and the bike before I canned myself. Turns out that the seat post (which is spring-loaded for my comfort) had come un-bonded from the bracket that actually holds the saddle onto the post. Presumably, my butt caused the damage by being attached to such a massive, portly carcass.
I took the post down to the bike shop to see if they could fix it or replace it, and since the bike is still under warranty, they chose the latter. Yesterday the replacement was completed, and I was back on the bike, after about a week of not riding. My legs (and my butt) made sure that I remembered I had not ridden for a while—I was definitely a bit sore by the time I made it home.
In other good news, I’m now down to about 265 pounds. My lovely wife and I celebrated what she has dubbed “double day” last week, on the day when my weight finally got <em>down</em> to only twice her weight. We must celebrate victories, however small they may be.