Last Sunday, I decided it was time for me to commit to bike commuting as a regular deal. I haven’t been running at all, still hobbled by a balky achilles from league, and I’ve been thinking about maybe riding as a substitute. So, I decided that Monday, Feb. 4 would be the kick-off date. I organized all my gear, packed my backpack with the real clothes I’ll wear at work, packed my lunch, and hit the sack on Sunday night eager for the new start. Monday morning, 5:30, and it appears to have been raining. Hmmm, maybe I should put this off. Nah, it’s not really raining, and I’ve got cool weather gear, no time like the present. So, at 6:30 off I went. It’s only 6.5 miles, so it’s not really that big of a deal. Of course, it’s 6.5 miles farther than I’ve ridden in three months or so, and it’s pitch dark, and slightly raining, but I get there with no problems and feel good about having been green for the morning, while getting a little exercise to boot.

That afternoon at 4:40, I do everything in reverse, change from office clothes to bike gear, pack everything up and step out into … hmm, it’s not a whole lot brighter out here than it was when I got in this morning. I mean, that’s an exaggeration, but it does seem pretty overcast, and it’s kind of chilly too. Off I go for the ride back home. Within a half mile (just far enough that I’m committed to the ride), I’m being pelted by hail. The wind picks up and the hail turns to a downpour so violent that I can barely see in front of my bike. I’m instantly drenched, and I’m actually giving consideration to turning back and getting a ride from one of my colleagues. But, “it’s not like I’m going to get any wetter”, so I decide to just push on. What the heck, it can’t stay like this the whole time, right? Right. It can get worse. It can get colder, *and* windier. It can get so cold that my bike’s shifting mechanism freaks out from contracting metal cables and decides to shift incessantly, unpredictably, from gear to gear and back, so I can’t even trust my pedals. It can be so cold that it’s actually see-your-breath cold during every freaking red light I hit (and I hit the all) so I have to just stand in the freezing rain, steam pouring off my soaked clothing as my body dumps heat into the atmosphere. Worst. Bike. Ride. Ever.

The next day, I drove to work. With the heater on.

My other favorite lines: “I’d ask for your number, but i don’t believe in phones.” and “She can’t decide if i’m a king or trash/ she loves me for the Johnny, but she hates me for the Cash.”

I will be practicing guitar all weekend (except for bowling).