Happy Bike to Work Day, DC!

We participated in BTWD for the second year in a row this morning. I was pretty stoked that the t-shirts were blue this year instead of the lime-ass green (yes, limes have asses) they were in 2012.

Note that DS is dressed in normal clothing while I'm decked out in workout gear. I sweat a lot more. Also note how many of us are sporting helmets...

My Brief Bicycling History, Part 2

After that embarrassing and painful episode, I decided I needed to learn to ride. And the only way to do that was with practice. I began suggesting we bike to nearby places. For some reason, DS agreed. With understandable hesitation. I can't say I was much (if any) less whiny on subsequent practice rides, but I became more and more comfortable on my bike.

Finally I decided I was ready. I was going to bike commute to work the next morning, on Bike to Work Day. I spent a long time the night before figuring out what I would wear, how to tote my work clothes and toiletries with me, and most importantly, how the hell to get there.

That morning, DS escorted me to our pit stop, where we picked up the swag they were handing out for BTWD. Afterward, we kissed good-bye and parted ways, and I was on my own. Somehow I made it to work alive...and I didn't even have to walk my bike up all the hills this time. Just some of them.

So, high on success, I thought I'd be adventurous and try another route home, one with seemingly more bike trails than my morning route winding through Georgetown. Big mistake. BIG.

I took a wrong turn and ended up on the Route 66 bridge. Now, for a more experienced rider than I was at the time, this would've been simply, you know...a different route? For me, it was more of a torturous ride of terror, doom and (near-) death. The trail over the bridge is quite narrow, just barely wide enough for two riders to pass. And according to my (admittedly possibly skewed) memory, the rail on the traffic side is not even waist-high. So every time someone on the trail would pass me headed in the opposite direction, they would have to slow down and use the high river-side rail for balance. Because I was on the traffic-side, I essentially had nothing to grab and nearly went toppling into the middle of rush-hour I-66. By the time I reached the end of the bridge, I was shaking violently and crying. So basically looking awesome.

It took me a while to recover from that. But when I finally decided to give it another go, I really was ready.

By making the commute a couple of times a week, I slowly improved to the point where I didn't walk my bike up any hills. And now I don't even dread them. By no means do I like them, and I still whine about them to anyone who will listen.

I even bought a pretty new bike after a while. With amazing turquoise handlebars.

My Brief Bicycling History, Part 1

I'm pretty new to this bike thing.

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.