A Day Without A Bicycle
Mood:  caffeinated
Topic: RANTING&RAVING
"Why don't you get a car?" "You rode here?" "It's _______ out to ride!" [too hot/cold, depending on season fill in blank].
These are the reactions a bike rider is used to getting. They are accepted, even expected, and whether he admits it or not the cyclist secretly appreciates them. For the cyclist knows it is not too hot or cold to ride, and there is notjhing unusual about riding ___ distance, and that not driving a car when he could is by no means a superhuman feat -- but if the non-riding public wants to feel that the opposite is true, fine by me!

Yet, the most overlooked fact of a cyclist's life is that there will be days -- perfect days for riding -- when you become one of those non-riders, days when, for some reason, you just cannot ride. There are no days too inclimate for riding, barring hurricanes or tornados in the street; I've ridden in extreme hot and cold, over 100 degrees F and below 15 degrees with wind chill. But, sadly, there are always days when you are not able to ride for some reason.

This was one of those days.

A sprained (?) knee [who knows how the heck that happened?!] kept me from riding today, although I could have ridden, I figured it best to rest for today and ride tomorrow. But all ther mind turned to was cycling.

And then it hits you: THIS is what makes you different from the rest of the human race; you WANT to push yourself down the street under your own steam, forge your own path through woods where no so-called sport-utility-vehicle could fit, you want to feel the hot wind of a hundred degree day passing through your helmet vents, feel the muscles in your legs come alive.

That day when you can't ride -- THE day without a bicycle -- is when you realize what EVERY day is like for the rest of the human race.

The day without a bicycle is the day you live as a non-cyclist. As a "regular", "normal" person.
As such it is a day of reflection -- and wonder. "How can anyone live like this?" you ask yourself. "How can they not rage at the boredom of being stuck in a car, not jump at the thought of answering that call coming from the road ahead, that message from the trail saying "I am here, waiting for you?"

To the cyclist, whether mountainbiker or roadie, fixed gear or 24 speed, bmxer or folder, commuter, "recreational rider" or racer, the day without a bicycle is a day to look at the non-riders around you, who like you are not riding, but not missing the experience, and ponder the unthinkable: What if THAT was me? EVERY day? Each rider has a reason he first took up cycling. For me getting back into riding when in high school was a response to being hit by a car for the first time -- it really helped my busted leg heal, and it also got me outside. The 96-lb me. Which turned into the cyclist me. The Day Without A Bicycle makes me wonder: What if I'd never been hit by that car? Would I still ride? Would I know what I was missing?

In a day or two -- maybe ever tomorrow, I hope -- I'll get back on my bike. My knee will stop hurting and I'll go back to riding. But
I will appreciate it all the more for the reflection I underwent during the day without a bicycle.