Seven skin layers, each more tender
than the last, guard the fragile red inner world from the hard grey
outer world.
Unless your pedals are made of slipper,
and unless your power output is more candle than 100-watt globe, the
grip on your pedals will bite the tender foot flesh like a turtle
nips a curious finger: vigorously.
BONUS TIP: In this world of carbon soled shoes,
pearl izumi elite thermal toe covers, and all manner of
capitalo-podiatry, getting the wind into that yucky green-grey region
between the toes can be as liberating as getting out on the bike in
the first place.
Not only does it dispel the fungi, it
evokes the wanderlust and simplicity of a bygone era, when
unemployment was stubbornly high, it never rained and all the
townfolk did was ride steel bikes up and down the main street, making
eyes at the young people they'd have to marry to get to know.
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