by Kelli Bowen
So it's my birthday, and Hubby pulled out the stops: he ordered me a present. I know. HOLY SMOKES. Ladies, I have found that good men, aren't always great at birthday presents. Maybe that's just my husband? Anyhoo - this year, he earned all the points. He heard me talking about something and how interesting and fun it looked, and he ordered me one. My husband ordered me a Street Strider y'all.
This was actually a brave move because it's a piece of exercise equipment and men THAT IS A DANGEROUS GAMBLE. For Hubby, it was a good gamble because, this is quite possibly my favorite birthday present ever.
What is a Street Strider you ask? It's like an elliptical machine hooked up with a trike to create this hybrid machine that propels you as you use it. It steers by leaning, it has gears like a mountain bike, and it makes me feel like my heart is going to explode. We have lovingly nicknamed it Death Trike.
I rode it around the block, and you guys...it was 40 degrees and I felt like Elsa ice-blasted me in the chest. My lungs have not expanded this much in a long time and they burned with that frosty NoDak air. I huffed and puffed my pudgy butt around the block and promptly went in the house expecting Death in his black cloak with his boney finger to come knockin' and I'd get it, because I was DYING.
I didn't die though, so then I tried it again several hours later when the temperature had risen where the frosty air wouldn't burn my lungs. Okay...this isn't so bad... why is the wind so strong??? Why is North Dakota so windy, I cannot pedal against this BS.
My friend, who lives a few doors down from me, hollered to me as I rode by and I thankfully took that as an invite to pull Death Trike into her driveway and catch my breath for a few minutes before hopping on that B again to make it the 237 feet home.
Then I read for a little bit, just enjoying life, taking in the written word...so great...until I tried to stand up. Oh sweet baby Jesus. ALL of my muscles hurt. What have I done to myself?!!?
All joking aside: I do love the Death Trike, even if it's trying to kill me. If you happen to be rolling through my 'hood and see a middle-aged woman struggling on some weirdo contraption, mind yo business. I'm just out here out-lapping Kelli-sitting-on-the-couch, so even if my lungs are burning, that's a win.
Kelli makes her home in Cass County with her husband, two daughters (8 and 5) and two dogs. She works for a regional seed company by day and tries to be an alright mom, wife, friend and writer by night.
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