|'WE'VE BEEN RIDING FOR AN HOUR AND YOUR LEG HASN'T TOPPLED OVER ONCE!' |
My friend, barely pictured at right, will use any lame excuse to take pictures of me.
Those of you who don't regularly follow along here will wonder what, aside from mind-blowing cheesecakery, the significance of this photo is, while the other four of you will know exactly why it is AMAZING. It's amazing because it marks the first time in more than a year that I've been able to even look at, let alone mount, a two-wheeled object without experiencing shrieking night terrors.
Because the last time I was on a two-wheeled object, it didn't end well. I'm referring to that time I damn near decapitated my leg on a moped (Editor's note: You can't decapitate a leg. That's just for heads. My note: Interesting. Please fetch me a machete. And then lie perfectly still), wound up in a Bermudian hospital, had to take a wheelchair to the airport, fainted on the flight home and then missed the first two weeks of a brand new job. Many months of physio later, my leg still twangs with every step I take. I've been told surgery is the only option — obviously these Harvard-educated morons have never heard of the healing powers of booze — and to ease up on the revelling, stop wearing high heels and enjoy regular exercise. Advice I have ignored ON EVERY LEVEL with the exception of the one that requires zero changes in my lifestyle.
Still, until a friend coaxed me into coming along for a beautiful summer bike ride last night, my exercise consisted of nothing but step classes, sexting and online shopping. (You laugh, but by God, I've got wrists of steel!) We bicycled for 90 minutes, pausing only once
EDITOR's NOTE: Well that's an admirable goal except that you don't own a bicycle and you work an hour away in downtown Toronto.
MY NOTE: Which reminds me, weren't you supposed to be fetching me a machete?