My boyfriend's back. He's got the truck, so now it's just me and the bicycle. Rather conveniently, it's supposed to rain consistently next week, but I'm a trooper. It won't faze me much if it's just drizzle. Slight drizzle is as good as refreshing as a tall glass of water and its variants. And if not, then oh well.
I love my bicycle. Although I had the option of four wheels for the past two weeks, outside of stocking up on toilet paper and cat litter I rode my bicycle where I needed to go. The temps have been in the mid-seventies with very low wind-resistance, so despite any early morning grogginess, every ride has been a great one.
In the last two weeks I've realized the strength of my legs, oddly having moved faster and with more strength than ever (perhaps a way of resisting the urge to be sedentary). I've also found that it took a lot less time to get where I needed to go by bicycle than by truck, and not once did I shell out one cent that I haven't already spent on parking. Of course every mode of transportation has its time, place, and benefit (I love taking the train when I can - Pacific Surfliner represent), but I'd be lying if I said it didn't please me to no end knowing that a hop, beeline, and snap of the lock at times meant a quicker arrival than a firing of the engine and incidental rock star parking.