Last night, with the Pistons-Cavaliers playoff game booming from my HDTV, I turned my Trek hybrid upside down and tried to see if the rim was visibly bent from the other day.
I spun the wheel, ran my fingers along both edge of the Bontrager wheel, applied the front brake with my foot.
I feel like maybe the front brake got knocked out of alignment somehow. When it's applied, both sides of the brake come together, but only one side snaps away from the bike when the brake is released. We'll see.
I took a broken screwdriver and removed months of muck off of the gears, used a flashlight to inspect it for other damage, such as cracks in the aluminum frame. The poor bike has a hard life on Atlanta's streets, under my hands. But it's dependable, a hard hill climber.
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Running again has become like a playoff game. Yesterday I had to do about 20 miles in five days to clinch another 100-mile month. I ran in the evening when the haze and smoke from the Georgia wildfires went away and cranked out the Middlebear H-Loop run. It was awesome. Now about 13 miles to go in the next four days...
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