I’m starting to feel like a real loser for not having ridden my bike to work yet. Everyday someone in the office asks, “did you ride here today?” I’m getting really sick of having to say no. I’ve always got a bunch of semi good excuses, like “it’s 400 degrees out and I have to go to the dentist at lunch” or “I need to go to tutor 40 minutes away right after work” or “we’ve got practice and I have my guitar” or BLAH BLAH BLAH!

Anyway, next week I am going to make it happen if it’s the last thing I do. All 8.5 miles. I’m supposed to get my sweet chrome rack and basket in today and that will help me for sure. I definitely need a lot of water to be readily available and I’m super tired of the backpack scene. I’m going to give myself 2 hours the first time to avoid any feeling of stress whatsoever.

Maybe I should just get a Wii Fit… but then I’d have to get a Wii. I’m a little nervous about how 1984¹ the whole scene is too. I guess I’ll give the biking a fair shake before I go the route of being watched by Big Brother.

1. In Orwell’s book, an exercise instructor wakes everyone up at the same time and they have to do all kinds of stretches and work outs via a creepy two way screen, a mandatory fixture in every home.

My least favorite part of biking everywhere is the lack of anonymity.  I’ve been getting phone calls and texts everyday from people who “saw me biking around.”  I’m  not sure what the purpose of telling me that is, but it seems to really press on people to let me know.

I mean, I don’t think I look that cool with my bangs blowing straight back in the wind and my nose running (it’s allergy season).  On the really good days, I sport the latest of my accessories, “sweat,” as well.

Yesterday as I was biking home with a bunch of toilet paper under my arm, I couldn’t help but wonder what sort of social response to expect.  As I turned the corner onto my street, I was met by a torrent of bikers- all of which looked way more serious than I did in my ruffled taffeta shirt and slippery black flats.  They were all decked out in sportswear and helmets and spandex and their bikes probably even came from a recent decade.  I tried not to feel like a tool, but it was tough.  They were all staring at me, biking along at a good clip, holding my bath tissue.

This stuff isn’t for the hipster.