I Rode the Struggle Bike This Week.

Thanks to Kevin, a BFJYAV program board member and the pastor of First Pres Cambridge, I finally acquired a bike that is big enough for my long giraffe legs. It’s a beautiful green lightweight racing mountain bike with a stuffed dolphin friend hot-glued between the handlebars (now taking suggestions for names). The first week I had it, it rained every day- thanks a lot, Boston! But this week was perfect fall weather [almost] every day and I took full advantage of the cool air and sunshine to ride my bike to work four days.

The Google maps app suggested that it would take 37 minutes for me to travel down the Charles River Bike path to the Back Bay. I had been planning to practice the route on a weekend when there was no pressure to get there on time, but on Monday morning I decided there was NO TIME LIKE THE PRESENT, so I hopped on and pedaled off. It took me an hour and a half to get to work. I had to stop every five minutes and check my phone map to see if I was going the right way, realize I wasn’t, turn around, and try again. It was so beautiful though. When I finally made it I had never felt such triumph to arrive anywhere, not even the first time I took the T to work! I had to stack up some boxes in my copy room/ office to make room to put it inside.

Biking 14 miles a day along the Charles River bike path is the most pleasant thing to happen to me since I got to Boston, and that’s saying something. I love seeing both the sunrise and sunset reflecting off the water, the leaves changing color, and tons of people kayaking, paddleboarding, sailing, and… crewing? (Do the Harvard crew team members say “YO, THAT’S MUH CREW”? I would.) I get extra exercise and breathe river air. I don’t even mind dodging the million other bikers and joggers during rush hour. After my long first hour-and-a-half commute, I did average around 40 minutes most other trips, which is exactly how long it takes me to travel on public transit.

Bicycle commuting to work is good for your wallet, good for the earth, good for your legs, and good for your soul, but there’s one pressing question about the whole situation: what the heck do you wear? There is NO WAY I’m biking 7 miles in a dress. Not in slacks, not in my boots, not even in jeans. The only thing I want to bike any miles in is my stretchy black leggings. I’ve been packing a change of business casual in my backpack and changing when I get to work, but it has resulted in some unfortunate hoarding of outfits in the church office. Seriously, how did I end up with four pairs of shoes at work? (It might have something to do with the rain on Wednesday morning that made me take the T to work, but when it cleared up immediately I felt cheated out of my pleasant autumn-air time. To reclaim it, I decided to run home, which meant I had to leave everything at work. Thank goodness I keep a set of workout clothes and shoes in my office! )

Thursday I decided it was the day to bring home my rainboots, fall boots, ballet flats, rain jacket, two full outfits, four dirty Tupperwares, extra bag, and laptop. (Whatever happened to that simple living thing, huh?) The Green Machine has a front rack, so I figured it had to be possible. I scoured the church for a box, and found two dusty milk crates under the stairs- perfect! I loosely tied one on the front rack with a short piece of rope I found in my copy room/office, loaded two pairs of boots into it, stuffed my backpack full of clothes, tied my rain jacket on the outside of my backpack, and set off. Unfortunately, (surprise) it is really hard to steer a bike with an extra load of pounds on the front half, especially when it’s not securely secured! I had a very scary and dangerous ride home with the sun blinding me, holding my milk crate on with ONE FINGER, all on my top-heavy, impossible to turn bike. I had to stop, get off, and walk my bike every time I wanted to turn a corner. I was terrified I’d run into someone because I A) couldn’t see them or B) couldn’t steer out of their way, and I’d topple over and all my spare outfits and shoes would spill into the street. How would you explain that to someone? But that didn’t happen, and one very long hour and a half later, I walked my bike into our driveway and breathed an enormous sigh of relief.