New Year’s Resolutions, you sticking to yours? Because I just crossed off one of mine.
End of last year, I was talking to one of my friends about what I should do as a New Year’s Resolution. They said, ‘I don’t know, how about you go for a bike ride or something.’
I said, ‘What? Go for a bike ride? What’s that?’ I had no idea what he was talking about. I had never heard of or seen a bike before — and that’s why I thought it was the perfect challenge for me to take on.
So on January 1st I went online and signed up for the Melbourne to Mildura Classic; one week of unassisted cycling, on a slight incline, from Melbourne to this place called Mildura off in the west somewhere. I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of Mildura before, I’d never heard of it either until this race.
So I was signed up for the race, now I just had to figure out what a bike was and get my head around this whole cycling thing.
I went to to the bike store, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen a bicycle before, but they’re rather curious things. Imagine two triangles stuck together with wheels on either end and a handle bar at the front.
They can’t stand up on their own but somehow they stay up when you ride them. Something to do with centrifugal forces or something, I could not get my head around it.
I tried to get going with this bike, I’d get on it, fall, get on, fall. I swear the guy at the shop sold me a dud.
I’d made absolutely no progress and I was two weeks away from the Melbourne to Mildura Classic.
So I decided to take an unorthodox approach to progress;
I went to see this guy, he he had a couple of supplements based on testosterone that could help. He said performance enhancing drugs were part of cycling culture, so it was alright. ‘Everybody does it,’ he said.
I just had to get some of this stuff, inject it between my thigh and my scrote, and I was good to go. Red faced, white knuckled on the handlebars, stomping on those pedals fast as I could and almost blacking out from sheer force of frustration and anger. But I could do it. When I was jacked up on steroids, I could ride a bike.
You’d think the steroids would make it easy, but they just brought their own problems:
I spent a whole week riding a bike with my swollen testicles draped over the seat like a turkey’s snood, swinging and crashing into each other, a newton’s cradle of family jewels.
And off the bike, everyone could tell I was using too. My downstairs were so swollen and tender, and in those tight cycling shorts everyone could tell what was going on.
I had a scrotal camel toe from each ball drooping down it’s respective leg, then being drawn to each other through some genital magnetism. Everyone could tell what was going on, and they hated me for it, because I was also winning.
That’s right, I won the Melbourne to Mildura Classic. It’s possible to do anything you put your mind to, as long as you are dedicated, work hard, set yourself hard deadlines, maybe get a little outside help, and just ignore every signal your body is giving you. Taking the same approach you can cross off your resolutions too.