by 
Step 1: Dig your bike out from underneath all that shit in the corner.
Step 2: Give everything a good look-over. You’ll definitely need to take that Stan’s booger out of your tires and pour some milk in there.
Step 3: Air those fuckers up to 69psi
Step 4: Pick up the phone and call your old riding buddies, yes call them (no DMs you fucking asshole) and ask them if they want to go for a ride with you. They will likely say something like, “You still ride pussy? Hahaha, yeah maybe I’ll meet up with you.”
Step 5: Kit up, tuck in all your cellulite.
Step 6: Remove kit, it doesn’t fit anymore. Put on some “street clothes” and head to the trail.
Step 7: Wait around for your friends to never show up.
Step 8: Lean your bike up against your badass pickup truck and get your phone out to take a picture.
Step 9: Take picture and admire the days that were and how manly your badass truck is. Get excited about how the many hearts and comments you’ll going to get on social media.
Step 10: Have an anxiety attack because you just remembered you can’t do social media on this bike ride.
Step 11: Put your bike back in your truck and drive home because without social media, there is no point in going for a bike ride.
Step 12: Get back to self-quarantine.
by 
I have never social mediaed. Don’t think I will start.
Kinda bummed when a Strava type person photos me and attaches it to “our” ride. It makes me feel like I’ve been cheated of my anonymity.
I’m gonna Ron Swanson the shit out of my next ride!