One two three gray!

I don't like change. Just so that's out there. And so when I do face it with hands on my hips I have to size up the situation differently. I have to add another filter to my perceptions. Do I not like this for warranted reasons or do I not like it because it's different?

My bike tire exploded (and I do mean exploded) over a week ago. Zach tried to fix it but to no avail. We borrowed Mom's and today was my first 9-mile spin. And I feel like I should have a red nose and giant shoes. And perhaps a monkey on my shoulder. What I shouldn't have is a 9-mile trip home and highway wind to confront. Zach kept asking me how the bike was and I didn't want to complain unnecessarily. But it's hard to pedal. It's handle bars are really high. All the work your legs do make you feel like you're trying to launch a helicopter vertically as opposed to traversing a lateral plain. I had a hard time knowing if I should even say these things as an answer to his question. I wasn't sure whether these issues were real issues and good enough for me not to ride it anymore...or I'm just fighting change.

It's hard to know. And it's almost always hard to know.