You're not Lance Armstrong yet mother fucker: or why two person bicycles can kiss my ass

I bought a bicycle off of Ray at work the other day. Yesterday I rode it around Stanley Park, all along the outside edge of the park along the seawall. For awhile I thought I might actually have to start living in the park because there were no signs for the first half of the ride, thus I had no idea how far I had travelled. It seemed quite like I was going further and further away from where I had begun, but getting no closer.

Finally I found a sign and realized I had in fact done most of the ride already. After that it was easy because, well I knew I wouldn't have to sleep in a thousand year old tree that night. Next time I'll bring my camera so you can see pictures of me straining to bike up tiny hills and so you can watch video of jocks and their girlfriends passing me on tandem bicycles.