And like every proud owner of a new set of wheels, I’m going to show it off:

Ain’t she a beauty? Say what? Yes, a Suburban. Oh, noooooo. Not that kind of Suburban. I mean a Schwinn Suburban.

See, the missus has been working out at the local gym for a while now (and is looking fine!, I might add). And since I work from home now, I get absolutely no exercise. At least last year, when I worked half the month in Seattle, I would have to walk a couple blocks back and forth to my car, and I could go out and walk around downtown at lunch. But this year? No exercise at all.

I’ve been planning to join the gym, too. Except I’ve been traveling way too much since the start of the year, and have never gotten around to it. And then when I started researching prices, I wasn’t too thrilled.

So, I had this crazy idea to buy a bike. I thought I was gonna spend maybe $100 for a nice 12-speed or something like I used to have in my younger years, except they don’t make bikes like that anymore. (I’m so freakin’ old.) After a little shopping around, I decided on the Schwinn Suburban above. And it has all kinds of levers and controls and things that twist and turn on the handles, and I have no idea what any of them do. So, I read the Owner’s Manual and realized that right there is problem #1: It comes with an Owner’s Manual.

When I was a kid, bikes didn’t need owner’s manuals. This one needs it, has it, and I don’t understand it.

If the weather is nice tomorrow (it’s not supposed to be), I’m going to throw caution to the wind and pretend I’m 12-years-old and just go riding, Owner’s Manual be damned. And if something goes wrong, I’m going to take it back to the store, and then go buy a real Suburban.