Her name is Cherry.
She's purdy ain't she?
(I'm from the south, but I don't have an accent- I promise)
And the pictures don't do her justice. She's got cute, little swirly flowery designs on her. She's a girl's girl bike. She's beautiful and porcelain. If she weren't a bike, she'd be a Cullen. With swirly tattoos or something.
I've taken her on some nice rides. Though not as many as I'd like.
Every time I ride I feel like I have to kiss my kids and husband good bye "just in case." I live in Atlanta and so my goal was to be able to ride right out of my driveway and into the city and back. But every time I ride I feel like I'm tempting death. Drivers are just crazy. And I get all spooked and end up on the sidewalk for some of the tougher roads- which is just plain dorky. But safer. But....dorky.
And yet there are bike trails just 15 mins away that are made for road bikes. But the idea of putting my bike into my van to go ride seems silly. And the road bike trails are so flat. No hills for challenge. Just doesn't appeal to me. And I can't quite tell if I'm nervous to get out on the city roads because I have to get used to it or nervous because it's dangerous. An old friend of ours was killed on his motorcycle 7 months ago at an intersection just minutes from my house. So every time I go out I think of him. You can't be in control of other people's mistakes. What if a car runs a red light? It's those thoughts that keep me from riding as much as I'd like.
But when I do ride, I feel I could go forever and ever. I read about people doing Centuries (100 miles) on their bikes and think: God that would be fun! I bought Cherry coming off a really low point and felt compelled to change it up. I had always been a runner and bootcamper, but wanted to branch out. Get outside my comfort zone. Expand. And so when I hop on Cherry with my too tight cycling shorts with a built in mega gel diaper to protect my business along side the ever dorky bike helment- I feel like I'm beginning a therapy session. And it's nice. I'm totally distracted with tunes and air and become completely unaware that I'm wearing spandex short- which, in the past, was a recurring nightmare.
And just to make sure you understand:
Notice how they encase my thighs like sausages? Isn't that precious?
So maybe I'll put Cherry in my van and take her to a trail more often. Let her get out more. And I can focus on riding to my heart's content and not on crazy drivers. So next time you see a cyclist pedaling their heart out on the road- don't get annoyed. Don't get pissed because they are in your lane and not going fast enough. Instead- slow down (car and self) and think about how you can feed yourself today like that person is. However that may be.