Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Riding to Work

One of the great things about living in the Seattle area is riding my bike to work during the summer. It's light early, it's light late, so no need for lights on the bike. The temperature is usually high enough that I don't have to look like the Michelin Man in the mornings. The only problem is getting up early enough to beat the traffic downtown. The thing is, it always seems like such a great idea the night before, but when the alarm goes off you instantly regret staying up to watch that re-run of Law & Order that you've seen for the 'nth' time. But, once you get up and are on the bike it's all forgotten. It's a lot like the 'moment of Zen' on The Daily Show, except that it lasts a bit longer. Not when I'm actually riding in downtown Seattle - I have to focus on all the people/cars/buses that might kill me.

The ride to and from work gives me about 2.5 hours of 'me' time. And it's more productive than the "I've been sitting on the couch for 6 hours and have watched the Molly Ringwald trifecta (Sixteen Candles, Pretty in Pink, The Breakfast Club) on ABC's Family Channel" 'me' time. What's interesting about cyclists is that we all tend to not talk to one another (most of the time). You can be riding next to/in front of/behind a person for miles and not speak a word. There are those who like to chat. They want to talk about how great their bike is; how it's the same bike Lance rode in the Tour 3 years ago; how they hate the I-90 bridge and would you want to share 'pulls' with them across it; endless questions about where you are riding to, riding from, how often, how long does it take you...(bike commuting is racing - even for those people who will never race their bike in a *real* bike race). I don't really like to talk during my commute. I don't like to race on my commute. It's not a training ride. I am not concerned about how much time I've spent in Zone 2, 3 or heaven forbid, Zone 4. I don't care that some guy with seriously hairy legs has just bombed past me on the descent. Actually, I do sort of care but if he's a big enough guy I figure I'll catch him on the uphill anyway. Hee.

It's a great stress reliever, as long as you aren't freaked out by cars and buses. You get used to it, you hope they don't get too close and clip you with their side mirrors. You hope they aren't jackasses and won't lean out the windows to push you over. You feel good about not contributing to the air pollution or the traffic jams.

And I always feel like I've gained an extra hour or two of guilt free 'sitting on the couch in front of the tv time' since I've done my workout for the day by the time I get home.

2 Comments:

Blogger tp_gal said...

nice post!

I agree, and I hate when people want to chat while I'm working out. It's pretty obvious to me that the effort I am making not to fall off the machines and to keep breathing are more than enough items on my plate. I don't care about your cat or your condo - leave me alone I'm dying over here.

7:20 AM  
Blogger tp_gal said...

New blog... new blog... new blog. no pressure. Kisses. tp

2:45 PM  

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