I Am: George Hincapie

I bicycle. The route I usually ride has a large hill at the end. That hill hurts. 

When I ride up that hill, it takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to get off my bike, sling it over my shoulder, and just hike up the hill to my house. It would probably be harder and more painful to do that, but I constantly find myself thinking about it…just jumping off and sprinting up that hill like a madwoman. 

Sometimes, I think maybe I could just puncture my tire and bribe someone to put my bike in their truck and drive me up the hill. Heck, I carry mace. I’m safe. 

And sometimes, I think maybe I should just sit down on that asphalt and cry. Because my legs hurt. And my body is tired. And cars keep passing me really closely and sometimes they flip me off and it makes me really sad. 

SIDE NOTE: Why would you flip a bicyclist off? I mean REALLY? It’s scary and unnerving and stressful to be flipped off as you’re practically biking your legs clean off your body. If you, Mr. Jerk in a Pickup, were to hit me, who would die? Who would die in that situation? I would. Don’t you be flippin’ me off. I will sass you. 

Anyway, sometimes I want to cry because I’m a wimp and can’t handle the mental and physical challenges of biking, even though I love it and it makes me feel like I’m flying. It’s a weird and complicated thing, biking. 

When I feel like that, I pretend I’m George Hincapie. It started during Le Tour de France, when I was like, “Hey guess what, if I married George Hincapie, my name would be Cappy Hincapie!” Also, if I married him, I’d be considered some kind of gold digger or he’d be a total creep, but it don’t matta, cuz I’d have a really amazing rhyming name.
It started that way, but it’s ended up as my motivation to get the heck up that hill. I announce the climb in a British accent like the guys who announce the tour and pretend that I am Hincapie. It goes something like this: And Hincapie takes the lead, passing Armstrong on the climb! Oh my God, this is magnificent! Hincapie is taking the lead! Hincapie has just won this stage of the Tour de France!!!
I don’t know how it works, but it always does. I get my booty up that hill and tend to want to ride more…it’s a pretty magnificent method. 

The funny thing about this is that I stick my tongue out when I play sports. Always.

So…Georgie, if you want to send me a Cervello bike (or…anything), I’m totally cool with that. Or we could just hang out. I could pretend I’m you and you could pretend you’re me. It’d be a party.

Advertisements

7 thoughts on “I Am: George Hincapie

  1. To comment on your last paragraph:

    It would be like a party (in my mind, it is a tea party). A really creepy tea party. Where everything is topsy turvy. You would be him, he would be you. Cats would be dogs, mice would be snakes. Even the the tea would be mountain dew and instead of kettle, it would be poured out of an anvil. Also: instead of civilized conversations found at normal tea parties, you and George will have to fight off monsters with fire.

    Party games may include: Truth or dare. Where he would dare you to kill a monster with your bare hands.
    But then you would be like “Okkkaaayyy. Truth”
    Then he would be all “What’s your biggest fantasy?”
    And then you would be all “AGRICULTURE”.

    Or maybe even Spin the Bottle. Except, instead of a bottle, you use a chimpanzee. And, instead of spinning the chimpanzee, he just throws poo at you instead. Also: whoever is hit by the poo will, instead of kissing the other player, will have to kiss the chimpanzee. But only after you close your eyes and give him ten seconds to runaway in the vast jungle and hide.

    …Yup. Pretty much I want this party to happen now.

  2. I know how you feel. I used to cycle. Had a bike, then I moved to Highgate, and well, the name should give you a clue…yep…hills, hills and more hills, if you want to get to Highgate, you have to go up a hill…my poor little legs could never cope but I am also a wimp because cars driving past me really freak me out so in the end, I gave my bike away.

    However, I can at least say that years ago (2002) I cycled 4 days from London to Paris and THAT was the kind of thing where I had to mentally find the strength when my legs were giving up on me. So keep playing that game that gets you up the hill.

    • That’s amazing! I’m impressed…cycling from London to Paris is quite the accomplishment!
      I’m “training” for a 45 mile ride (I wanted to do the full 100 but I don’t think I’m in good enough shape…not enough time to bike!) next Saturday, so I should just do that hill on repeat or something cuz I’m pretty sure this ride has a lot of hills. Woo…

  3. Cappy, you are so cool.
    When you grow up you should write for this site:
    http://www.bestweekever.tv/
    or write for a comedy show… have you seen Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip? It’s on netflix instant and I know you would like it. Because you’re a funny girlie.

    haha I should have used this method when I biked from LC to 60th every day after school. because now I have a car and the mere idea of getting on a bike again makes me go “aaaawwwwhhhh shit”,

  4. Have no idea how I managed to cycle for 4 days, at the end, I hated the bike lol (and could hardly walk) but it was worth it. Good luck on the 45 mile ride. You can do it!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s