I was in Central Park sunday morning. My bike is leaning against me, my hands are grimy from an earlier bike mini-repair, I'm holding the screw-off top of my water bottle between my teeth, at the same time I'm pouring a packet of ultima replenish powder into the water bottle, and I have my head cocked so I can listen to voice mail on my cell phone (ok, I admit I was overdoing the multi-tasking). . . and a pedestrian comes up to me to ask me how to get to the west side. Why me? She was kind enough to wait until I finished listening to my voice mail . . .



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