Love affair with my Trikke

I have talked a lot about my Trikke, Birdie, in past posts. I've written about falling off of it, of constantly wanting to get back on it and even ruminated over physical therapy of my knee which has kept me off the Trikke for several months. And yet I don't think I have ever written about all the fuss and bother about the Trikke. I may have written about the first time I saw a friend ride one and immediately knew I wanted one. And I'm going to go through it again with a new perspective.

In April of 2009 I first saw StanLe on his Trikke. He was excited about showing it to me so we went down to the beach bike path and as soon as I saw him ride away, I knew my love affair with movement had truly begun. It reminded me of skating, which I loved but was too scared of falling to get very serious about. And the carving looked like the way I copied surfers riding their bikes. The first time land surfing came into my vocabulary. The best thing about the Trikke is that you have handlebars to hold onto, not like skating when you could fall on your ass at any time, and I really wanted to avoid that.

So, I dreamed of Trikking. I would meet StanLe around Town, me walking, he Trikking, and so I kept that vision of me on a Trikke alive. Finally six months after the dream began, the dream came alive and I bought my first Trikke. It took a few hours to master. I practiced in front of the building where I live. Everyone was curious about this three wheeler deal. I had people cheering me from their balconies... really. After a few short weeks of going one block more, I was Trikking with StanLe.

The feeling I get from Trikking is well, freeing. I am in control of where I go while carving on the sidewalks around my town. The carving is the best, just like riding a sidewalk like a rogue wave.

I cannot wait to get a few months of solid surfing behind me. Before my knee problem, I was there and my Trikke, Birdie, was like an extension of my legs.

I knew how to make the Trikke mine. That's another great thing about this three wheeler. Once you get the basics down, the ride is your own. There are so many ways to ride, for instance the workout can be geared towards a lower body or upper body workout, or both for that matter.

The stories I've heard about weight loss are many, and there is even a 75 year old Trikker, which I am aiming for. Well actually both of those things I'm aiming for, a skinny 80 year old Trikker, that's my goal.

So, If anyone wants to get in on the ride of a lifetime look up South Bay Trikke. They will do you right! Tell them I sent you, I get free gear!

P.S. Never ride without a helmet!!

photo by Randy Boyd

Jake

Hello, I'm Jake. I am the head of this household and I can prove it by out yeowling anyone here. She defers to me always or I'll protest long and loud. I really don't know what happened to my life as I was very content with my friend Buster. We slept together, we got along, hell, we even used to eat from the same plate. But he's gone now. I am still sad and miss him a lot.

Anyway, we were happy and she brought in another cat which upset the balance because this new one only wants to play, and she doesn't care about size. She is fearless. She hides behind chairs and jumps out when I'm not looking. Luckily my hiss backs her up a bit. Sometimes we box a bit, but I always win.

Then a bit later she brought another one in. It was very crowded around here. Buster got sick and he's no longer with us, and in his place are two FEMALES! What is she trying to do?

And yet, when she rubs my belly, I don't care about anything anymore. I would much rather be with her and put up with the others that to have no belly rubs. I do love her. I just don't understand why she tells me to shut up when I'm professing long and loud how I feel about things! Check back as I have a lot to say around here!

The littlest Kitty

You caught me! I usually hide in drawers, closets and under blankets. I am very small and everything is so big around mew. And all the sounds seem big to me too. I guess you could say I'm timid, but I love the lady who feeds me, and she sure knows what feels good to kitties! I was born to be a feral cat, but she stepped in the way and took care of me and my litter mates. They are a memory now, but I'm happy.

When I see her I stick my butt in the air and she scratches me. I love this kind of service! When I am hungry, there is food. When I want to sleep safely I have so many places to go. And when I feel like playing, there is my friend Willa who loves jumping on me when I'm not seeming to pay attention.

It's all very nice except the big white cat who hisses and swats at me whenever we run into each other around the territory. He is so mean and I try to stay away, but still we run into each other. He scares me, he's a bully.

Pussy Love

One of the things I love most is my three roommies, Willa, Daisy and Jake. They seem to want to get their messages out, and so I will, when I'm done posting, let them have their say. I have no idea what they will divulge, yet they seem to feel it's important. So here we go with a new segment called Pussy Love. I'll let them introduce themselves.


Merow-ow,

I'm what she calls Willa, among other things. I think she took out that big Wheeler thing that runs over my tail all the time. She'll be gone for a while. I'm so glad I got this chance to tell you all about my life.

It is rather crowded with two other butt sniffers here. She calls one of them Daisy. I like her, she plays hard for such a little one. She's half my size, and I can dominate her easy. The other, Jake, is a real problem for me. He thinks he runs the territory, but he is wrong and I tell him every chance I get. He's kind of stubborn. And big.

Life is pretty easy otherwise. I get to sleep my 16 hours without worry. I have food whenever I get the tiniest craving. Water is leaking out of the faucet in her litter box room, (wow what a strange litterbox it is) that's fresh for me.

My favorite thing is running out of the door whenever I get the chance. I love meeting other people, and going into their territories. The smells could keep me busy for hours! Reowoh!

I hear her, she's so loud, so I gotta go! I've gotta hang out by the door, so I might get my chance. The door is opened so seldom and for very short amounts of time (whatever that is). I hear the door now, so bye...

I'm still ringing in the new year!

Today is the second day of the rest of my life, sort of. I am back on my Trikke for the second day after a very lengthy recovery from a knee injury. It's called chondromalacia, or, ironically enough runner's knee. If you knew me you'd be in on the joke by now, or just look at any picture of me.

Chondromalacia, or chondo for short, is thinning of the cartelidge in the knee joint. Isn't it cool to have access to the internet? I am an expert now. The bitch is sometimes recovery takes up to three months.

I am on my second Trikke run since November's very few painful attempts. Yesterday I went five minutes, today ten. So far no problems. Yeahhhh! Although I will retain complete joy until tonight when the pain would traditionally show.

But I am off topic, although it's a pertinent topic. Am I skimming over the fact that I TRIKKED TODAY!?! I am trikking tomorrow for 15 minutes, then 20, then who knows! I might be back to my favorite past time with my clothes on. OMG!

My Trikke brings me such joy. I love the feel of the air across my face, I love syncing my carving to the music on my ipod, especially when the beat is strong and fast (Lady GaGa comes to mind). And in a few short weeks (after all we are in the middle of January already) I will go a few miles again and really have a blast carving on the bike trail.

Strength will be mine, I will have it again. Our bodies are such perfect machines. Sometimes they take longer than we'd like to heal, but given the right recourse they come back.
Photo by Randy Boyd

Yaaa-Hooo, 20-ten!

There is a lot of speculation going around about what we should call this decade. The 'tween years seem to be approaching like a blizzard and we have the end of the world to contend with in December of 2012 as well.

The promise of a new decade makes me smile. I know it's just a few days later from last year and yet I am thinking about goals for this new year. I get to re-invent myself! What is it about the beginning of January that inspires us to start this trek? I know it's like a clean slate for us all, a new calender without any X's to mark good and bad starts and stops. But doesn't that happen every time we turn the page on our calendars?

So, I'm going to take this global restart date to make some goals, not resolutions, to be a healthier, happier person on this planet. And I plan to spread joy, because we have less than three years before the end of time!
Photo by Randy Boyd

Boy am I losing it

On my way out the door today I couldn't find my bag. It is a bright red backpack that does not hide well. I started thinking, "where could I have left it?" After all I was in my apartment. Did I leave it in the hall and close the door on ever finding it again? Is it under a blanket? No, that's a kitty hiding from the dust storm I'm creating trying to find this red leather bag. Oh crap, I'll have to get all new cards and pictures and phone and whatever I have found that I can't do without even for a few hours so I carry it with me wherever I go.

On my third round through every room in my apartment I am gaining in frustration, and then I feel something lightly worn on my back.

It is right at this moment my problem is solved, and I feel like a dork -- the reason I couldn't find the thing is I was already wearing it! All I can say is I'm glad I don't have to replace anything except a few blown brain cells.
Photo by Randy Boyd

I'm still standing... sort of

I am still alive. I have been lazy lately, not walking much, not Trikking much, not writing much. I'm going through one of those times where I am taking those two big steps backwards, awaiting the forward steps that will jut me back into the world I was inhabiting a few short months ago.

I have no real guesses as to what tips me off into my version of oblivion. But it happens when I can't move. Movement is the key. Ya gotta keep those endorphins flowing. I also have noticed that once I start ranting on this blog, then I start feeling better and then who knows, maybe the posts will be interesting... Here's hoping!

I bought my first hip-hop song

I have been a little nervous about rap and hip hop. This is not unprecedented. I was very afraid of punk then became a huge fan, so anything can happen.

The cherry popping song is from Flo Rida. Funny, it's based on a song from the 80's. It's called "Right round". I loved it before, and I'm loving it now. It's funny how music that stirs me becomes a sort of muse. I haven't posted here for some time and now look, a stray surge of inspiration. I am like a tween, listening to this song over and over again. I want to move, I am moving as I type actually.

Back in the early 80's I used to get up early just to listen to X, the Cars, the Pretenders, among others. I danced around the room back then. Music was better than coffee. It lit up my soul.

I feel that way right now. Maybe because it's juxtaposed against a reaction of depression from a medication I stopped recently. I just want to sleep. And I stopped this medication 3+ days ago.

So I keep playing this song over and over again to support me as I start my day. I'm reminded again of the power of music that sets the stages of our days and holds us up when we are slipping down.
Photo by Randy Boyd