One of the first things I did when I moved to the DC area just over two years ago was buy a bike. After a couple of wobbly, nervous test rides in the parking lot (I hadn't ridden a bike in 20 years), I shelled out a few hundred bucks on a mountain bike, mainly because that's what the guy at the store told me I wanted. I was fully prepared to start riding to work every day, since I lived right on the lovely Mount Vernon Trail. 25 miles round-trip? Pshaw, said I. Cake.
Lookin' fly with my shiny new bike.
Until I rode to brunch with a friend one morning, just over a mile away, and thought I was going to collapse into a pool of my own sweat (and probably tears and possibly vomit).
So the bike became an ornamental fixture in my living room. And hipster poser status.
Over the next few months, I met and started dating my boyfriend, Doctor Steve, and soon decided to relocate to The District from Alexandria to be closer to him. I quickly learned that DS is really into biking. He bike commutes to work every single day. In a suit. It is equal parts bad-ass and adorable.
Eventually, full of inspiration from him, I suggested that we go for a bike ride one day...Hey, how about to my office, since it's only 5-6 miles away now? Wouldn't that be sooo much fun?
It was NOT fun.
I was tired. I was hot. I was falling off my bike. I didn't know how to use my shifters. There were too many hills. I was scared of the traffic. I was scared of the pedestrians. I hated the roads. I hated the sidewalks. I was running into shit. I couldn't keep up. I was out of control. I don't waaaannnaaaaa... I caaaaaan't...
One of the reasons I love DS so much is his seemingly endless patience with me.
We finally got to Arlington after more than an hour of my whining and complaining. A cupcake from The Bake Shop in Clarendon definitely helped, but I'm pretty sure we ended up taking the Metro home, which was probably not even my idea.
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