Two on the Trainer and Once in Class -- and an unrelated event on the streets

November 14 and 15 were uneventful, late evening 40 and 30-minute trainer spins.  This ride every day for a year thing is starting to feel more like a chore than pleasure.  Getting off the bike at 10:30 also leaves me going to bed around midnight and unable to get up for early morning rides even when I plan on doing so.  My planning goes as far as laying out my clothes and breakfast bananas, charging my light's battery, and setting out my bike.  Everything is ready for my ride except for me.

To combat this, today I went to Velo and actually did the whole 60-minute class as prescribed.  Left shin hurt some, but no worse than when I ride easy, so I was encouraged to keep riding hard.  The shin also hurts when I walk moderately fast or faster and, again, after the gym it was no worse than when I don't ride.  Perhaps it's healing at last.  A change of scenery (the club) from my living and the shin feeling better left me in a better mood after ride number 139.

As I was leaving the club, I heard commotion outside.  Kate and Donald stood at the door, looking out, discussing.  I peeked out -- helicopters were hovering overhead.  Occupy San Francisco protesters were marching up Broadway a block away.  We discussed historical ramifications of the movement, then I declared that I had to get back to the office to occupy my desk and departed.

I walked south on Front, turned west on Pacific, crossed Battery, where I saw the marchers.  They had turned from Broadway onto Battery.  I walked a block up Pacific to a taco truck to get lunch (lengua burrito -- yum!).  The march turned up Pacific and was coming toward me.  Motorcycle cops were riding up and down the street and up both sidewalks, ahead of the marchers, whose chants consisted mostly of simple 99-1% math.  For a moment, I contemplated walking a block with the marchers just for the hell of but decided against it, feeling content with walking on the sidewalk half a block, then turning off.  As I walked up the sidewalk, a motocop bumped me lightly, as he passed.  Briefly, I felt kinship with victims of police brutality, but decided not to press charges.  I turned south on Sansome, away from the hubbub.  I walked back to my office, on Montgomery.  As I approached Montgomery, I saw the marchers massing at the intersection of Montgomery and Pacific, appearing ready to head down Montgomery toward my building.  It was almost 2:00 p.m. and traffic was light.  Two or three hours later and 200 people marching down Montgomery would lead to a traffic nightmare.

I went into my building.  The procession passed peacefully about half an hour later.  On my way home, I saw them massed in front of Wells Fargo building.  I didn't get close enough to find out what was going on there.

In the evening, I saw on the news that 100 protesters occupied a Bank of America branch on California and Davis, where I often go to drop off my mortgage payment, and were arrested.
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