Carmella and Me, and BikeSnobNYC

Carmella is my significant other.

Carmella is a 7-speed hybrid bicycle with 700cc tires and a champagne finish.

Today is my fifth day of riding ten minutes to the train station to work, then riding the full 30-40 minutes home at the end of the day.  Half of the homeward commute is in a bike lane, which helps enormously.  The first twenty-five pedals are up an incline.  I think, "Why am I doing this?  I'm too old.  I should have driven.  I feel too vulnerable."

BikeSnobNYC says in "Systematically and Mercilessly Realigning the World of Cycling" that "if you're not riding your bike because you might get hurt, you might as well just seal yourself inside of a hypoallergenic bubble and never leave your house."

  In a few minutes, though, I reach the peak which happens to be the overpass to the freeway.  I look down on the people trapped and still in their expensive cars and think It sucks to be them.

BikeSnobNYC says a Cadillac pickup truck "allows you to look like an idiot at the country club and at the ranch."

And off I go, gliding on a downward slope.  Levels of happy start to rise.  Car commuters, taxis, buses, trucks within an arm's reach....

BikeSnobNYC says, "So lose the fear.  Cycling is dangerous, but it's simply not that dangerous."

By then I've got my breath, my rhythm, and start to enjoy the ride.  There are a few ups and down, nothing major til I'm about halfway home.  I gear down and crawl but so far I haven't abandoned the saddle and walked Carmella up. 

It's less fun for most of the second half of the commute just because there are so many people on the sidewalk (it's legal in L.A., BikeSnob, but, yeah...) and I keep having to either slow down or walk.  But once the pedestrians clear out (and really, only a few streets have walkers out here) then I'm happily back in the saddle.

Strangley, coming home by bike takes pretty much the same time as driving (walking to the parking lot, waiting for long lights, etc.) 

I get lots of Wow, you ride to work?!?  It's almost embarrassing to describe how utterly simple it is, let alone how pleasurable.  By the time I turn onto my street the endorphins are sizzling, my legs feel great, and I know I've just had about the best 40 minutes possible.

Beats all hell out of the gym.