a chill in the air

As the tempature drops and each day welcomes you with a brisk nip in the air, I get reminded of a story.

Mrs. Flick and I got married in November and that winter I started training more seriously on my bicycle than I ever had before. This meant doing a lot of long rides in winter weather.

One particular Decemmber Sunday I set out to meet some guys for a hard ride and the tempature dropped to below freezing. We ended up doing about 3 hours in the cold and when I got home I was a mess. I couldn't feel my hands nor my feet and whenever I tried to take a deep breath I'd cough as my lungs were filled down deep with the special kind of mucus you get from exercising in the cold.

I limped upstairs, disrobed and climbed into the shower. I turned on the shower as hot as I could tolerate and I stood there for what seemed like and hour suffering through the pins and needles as the feeling slowly returned to my extremidies.

After a while I started to return to normal except for the cough. By this time the bathroom has turned into a steam bath with the hot water running so long. The hot moist air actually helped my lungs and I started breathing in as deeply as I could.

Each breath would bring with it a little coughing fit that would clear some of the mucus. I soon realized that I could accelerate this process if, when I felt the cough coming on, I would exhale as quickly as I could and give a gutteral roar.

(inahale...then exhale) URRRRRRRGGHHHHHHHHHH...and then a series of grunting coughs HACK HACK HACK BLAHHHHHHH

( inhale..then exhale) URRRRGHHHHHHH.....HACK HACK BLAHHHHHH BLAHHHHH BLAHHH

thankfully the mucus was coming up in boatloads and I was feeling much better.

I also noticed that I could break the stuff up with a little smack of my chest with my fist.

inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH

inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH

inhale...exhale THUMP, SMACK....URGHHHHHHH....THUMP, SMACK, BLAHHHH BLAHHHH

It was totally working.

Then, in the middle of all this I heard a slight tapping on the bathroom door.

" Yes ?", I asked.

The door cracked open and Mrs. Flick peeked in, " Ummm..everything OK in there ?"

" OH YEAH ...GREAT !", I said enthusiastically.

" ummmm.....OK" and then the door started to close and then opened again, " hey, I hate to bother you, but can I ask you something ?"

" sure, what's up ?"

She stopped to choose her words carefully, " are you....ahhhh...are you masturbating in there ?"

" AM I WHAT ?!"

" I mean whatever is fine, but..."

" NO NO NO !!!!! NO I'm NOT I'M NOT. I SWEAR !!!"

" Hey fine, whatever, just want to make sure you were ok, that's all, nevermind"

" NO LISTEN ! SEE....."

click. and the door closed

I can't imagine what mental image should must have had of me in there...punching myself...screaming....wacking off....but I'm pretty sure, to this day, she doesn't quite buy my explination.