Pedal Another Mile

Bicycling, death, life after death.


OK, so Vladimir wasn't a giant Russian guy. He is a smaller, middle-aged guy. I expected him to be the size of the guys you see at 3am on ESPN that pull double-decker busses with their necks.

Regardless of his size, this guy knows his shit. He is a master. If Vladimir would have given massages to Soviet and American leaders, the Cold War would have never happened.

I've had good massages before, but none can match the relaxation I feel right now. It's been five hours since it was over and I'm still completely relaxed. I already told him I'd see him next week.

Oh yeah - he fixed my IT band without a roller. Amazing.

After the massage I had some wonderful soup at a place with like 60 different soups (but no Nazi). It was perfect soup weather - cloudy, misty, and 67. Brr! After eating I took care of some more financial matters concerning Billy Jo... notarizing papers, going to the post office, etc.

Even Friday afternoon rush hour couldn't tense me back up.

The final piece of my beach gear came in the mail today. I got a backpack beach chair on clearance at Dick's the other day. Not only am I set for down here now, I plan on going to Indiana Dunes a lot more this summer. It's barely over an hour away, and it was a good time.

Tomorrow looks to be possible rain again so I'm thinking repeating the early ride of today. Sunday looks to be a washout.

Beach is happening soon. While sitting on that beach, I'm even going to write a little for the book, old fashioned style- pen and paper. If I remember how.