Good thing I’ve taught spinning for ten years.  It finally came in handy yesterday as my friend Christian and I biked our asses off around the capitol of Germany.   It’s always an adventure with Christian.  He’s so active and sporty.  I’m so … “where’s the café, I want a biscotti”.

We make a good team.

It was the quintessential perfect 73-degree day.  We got a late start because Germans move at their own pace.  Translation: Christian always finds one last thing to do before we leave the house.  It’s like hanging out with Monica from “Friends”.  “Do we have time to re-grout the bathroom tile?” he asked in his perfect English.  “Scheisse!” I’d say, because that’s the only German swear word I know.

Before we went biking, Christian wanted to go running in a local, nearby park.  I don’t run unless I’m being chased by something.  I lasted exactly 45 seconds before I feigned an epileptic seizure.  Christian sensed something was wrong, but kept

running.  I parked it near a gorgeous pond with a fountain.  There were so many cottonwood seeds dancing in the air, it looked like it was snowing.  When I heard the chimes on the church bell, I got up and splashed some lake water on my shirt to mimic perspiration.  Well, I didn’t want Christian to think I had just sat there for an hour, for Chrissake.   “Don’t get too close to me … I’m all sweaty,” he said.  “And please don’t get too close to me either, you’re all ‘lakey’.”  Damn sneaky Germans.

Once we got going, the race was on.  Christian is undeterred by anyone who gets in his way.  I think he’d rather swerve into oncoming traffic than slow down for a mother pushing a stroller.  He’d zig and zag through stoplights and pedestrians occasionally turning around to see me propped up, trying to balance myself against a wall.

When I finally got my bearings, I got pretty daring.  I felt like I was in a game of “Pole Position”.  I still couldn’t keep up with him, but I did manage to pass two elderly people in a wheelchair.

The last time I was in Berlin, Christian did a great job of playing tour guide.  We spent nearly 36 hours seeing everything there was to see.  Naturally, I assumed I’d seen all the sights.  “You have seen four percent of this city,” Christian chided.  I started to sweat it, sensing we were going to see the other 96% this day.

Monuments, statues, architectural highlights, parks, everything was fair game yesterday.  We even took in a little shopping.  “Let’s get you some jeans!” Christian announced.  That’s code for:  You look WAY too American, you stupid American.  I tried on several pairs, each more trendy (and snug) than the last.  I finally broke down and tried on a pair of black dungarees with doll head appliqués on it.  Sooo German!  “These are raging”, the clerk told me.  I think he meant these are “all the rage”.

I ended up passing on the jeans telling Christian I couldn’t bike AND be expected to carry a shopping bag.  I told him I’d fall and suffer a compound fracture.  Given my uncoordination earlier in the day, I think he bought it.

I think.

We topped off yesterday with a brilliant, authentic German dinner (including some odd white asparagus).  Christian ordered for me.  Thoughtful, eh?   “How considerate is he?” I thought to myself.  Turns out my German is so bad it makes his ears bleed and he wanted to ensure that didn’t happen out in public.

Scheisse!