I don't wear a helmet when I ride it. I don't own one.
I don't ride my bike to work. I cite my laptop as the excuse.
I don't ride my bike when there is crazy traffic on the road.
I don't ride the bike to the store because I cannot bring back grocery and the child without spilling one onto the road.
I just don't ride my bike enough!
I wish we were more kind to bicyclists in our country. I wish people would recognise biking as a legitimate means of transport, in our country. I wish people wouldn't honk at me when I am riding. I wish there were bike racks and bike paths and a real biking mafia. I hope you know that it has been my cross-training of choice these past few months, and there is nothing more fantastic than my post-long-run bike-rides back home. And yes, I love riding in the rain, and splashing through puddles, imagining for a second that I am back in school and Honey and I are together, admiring the trees and splashing around with our bikes (Hers a maroon BSA-SLR; mine a red AVON-SLR; back then).
Last week, she (the bike; she is feminine, brown(ish), strong, sturdy, and most of all, a hard-worker) got a nice spiffy overhaul. Her chain, brakes, gears, were all oiled. The loose mud-guards fixed up. I did not do it. I don't pay as much attention to her maintenance as I should. My friend did this for me. I was so taken aback and happy at that.
I have been salivating at the thought of riding it ever since. I eye it with longing every evening and morning when I leave the homestead.
I (feel I am) strong, sturdy, and most of all a hard-worker. I think I occasionally need a spiffy overhaul. I don't think I pay as much attention to maintenance as I should. But I will.
I lead you away from this weird note of mine, to this cute blog post I read today, and in case you don't really want to go there, write down its message for you:
"You'd look hotter in a helmet"
Ride safe, people!