Loco dreams

I guess the El Pollo Loco I had for dinner last night was coming back up on me while I slept because I had a pretty vivid dream. In this dream, I was riding a midnight blue Surly Steamroller from my parents' old house in northwest Phoenix to Glendale Community College. I've never ridden a fixed-gear before, so it was nice to be able to test ride one in my sleep. The weird part was that the crank arms felt like they were about 75mm long, and the bike seemed to have about 1:1 gear on it. I was pedaling like mad in these tiny circles but wasn't really making any headway. Our two dogs then started stomping around the bed, which woke me up and ended the dream. I have no idea if I'd have made it all the way to GCC.

Here's the thing. I often dream that I'm doing things I wish I could do in real life, but have never been able to. And I don't mean stuff like being able to fly or travel through time, it's more mundane than that. Specifically, I have recurring dreams that I can: (a) do chin-ups; and (b) ride wheelies. I've done exactly one chin-up in my life - from the shower curtain rod in my dorm during college. My longest-duration wheelie lasted about 3 seconds, also during college. These sorts of dreams mock me when I wake up from them.

I distinctly remember that in last night's dream, I hopped on the bike in a perfect cyclocross-style running re-mount, sliding right into the saddle while my feet met up in perfect time with the rotating pedals. I used to work on that very thing when I lived in Sacramento. I worked at it because, while attending a NCNCA cyclocross clinic, I managed to bend the seat post and saddle rails within my first few tries. On my last re-mount attempt, I somehow put my cleated shoe in the back wheel, taco-ing the hell out of it. I, of course, didn't have a spare bike or wheelset, so I couldn't participate in the post-clinic CX race. I spent a long time trying to get better at getting back on the bike, but I never mastered it.

Back to the present day - what I'm hoping is that the part of last night's dream that I am doomed to never experience is the running re-mount, not the riding of a fixie safely, in traffic. While I really don't have a need to be able to hippety-hop into the saddle, I'd like to think one of the beat-up and broken-down old road frames in my workshop will live again as a fixie and that I'll be able to operate the damned thing.

I other news, the sun is once again shining on the Old Pueblo after a coupla' days of much-needed rain. I've got the motivation to either lift weights in the warm, clean air or go ride on some nice, tacky trails, but not both. December is the month during which I've vowed to become a bicyclist again, but I can't entirely give up on working out, either. To make the decision more straightforward, I went ahead and filled up the feeders in the front yard. If I can't decide between pushing pedals and pumping iron, maybe I can just sit on my arse and look at birds.