I’d been checking the weather reports all week, looking for the one day when it won’t be “as cold” or “snowy” or “dense foggy” to get out and ride my bike again. When today came up as a high of 50*F, I knew I would regret it if I didn’t ride.
Quick text to my commuter friend, who has still been commuting in all kinds of cold and crappy weather, who is all kinds of surprised.
Weather looks great tomorrow so I’ll see you at 6:32am.
The actual commute this morning was cold. I always forget that 34* and dark is not the same as 34* and sunny. And I’m still working through my footwear situation. This morning’s poor selection was my Converse One Star sneakers. They fit into my toe clips much easier than my trail shoes this past weekend, but my toes also took a huge beating in the cold department. Like Lukewarm Shower To Slowly Warm My Toes So They Don’t Burn and Itch and Make Me Cry cold.
But as usual, the conversation was good. We talked about a lot of things, at one point discussing how my mind can’t wrap itself around the concept of a bike ride without a million layers and spinning a really high cadence to keep warm. We met up with another woman about half-way in and the three of us had a great time chatting and zipping by all the runners on the trail.
I also was able to get my left shifter to go from the little ring to the big ring and back several times without dropping. Finesse. Patience. Being in tune with your bike. All good things.
But the real joy happened this afternoon. Temps not only got to 50, but they got to 59*F.
I can’t even describe to you, dear reader, how absolutely delicious tonight’s commute was. It was a small slice of what’s to come in a few weeks time, a drop of last spring’s sweet nectar to rekindle the fire after the fuel is mostly spent. Truly it satisfied my soul and hit all the right dopamine points in my brain.
And that was just riding my bike home from work.
Cycling is a hell of a drug.
See you on the road!