Last night, I went home with a guy I had just met.
Actually we parted ways about 200ft after getting on our respective bikes, but I’d been eyeing his bike for a while. A red ‘cross Alan; it used to be locked up at the bike rack near the parking lot. I recently switched to the one in front of the law library [mostly because someone seems to own my very same bike except in size "very very tall"], and the Alan’s been locking up there too. I took this as a sign that I was meant to be friends with this person. I just had to find him.
Okay, granted, it ended up that I had met him before [at my other home, i.e., IBC], where he was getting his other other other other bike fixed. Still, being sort of bike-friend-deficient until recently, it was fun to jump onto bikes together and roll away from the stress-fueled depths of the library.
Because despite the fact that I can now legitimately say I have [bike] friends who are growing into this big, lovable family [like one I actually am comfortable giving hugs to...and that's big, coming from me], as well as a growing network of internet friends [my Facebook friends count has significantly increased], I’ve barely gone on rides with any of them. I rode more than 100ft for the first time with Eric last Sunday, my first 10ft with Chris, and now 200ft with a new bike friend from school. The irony is that I’ve never gone on rides with friends I’ve known the longest; Jones is in Iowa, and my 1L study group friends are just starting to get back on their respective bikes.
I know, I should start taking my own advice and stop
whining hanging out so much and start riding. Because I’ve been parking my bike next to friends recently. I just don’t find myself on the road with them so much.
But with emails from fellow cyclists with gorgeous pictures stunning enough to make me want to go out and train, that’s going to change. Just you wait.